


To a Dead Tomorrow

by Dr_Harbinger



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Character Death, Dark, Horror, M/M, Sadism, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-09-05 04:51:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 57,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16803988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Harbinger/pseuds/Dr_Harbinger
Summary: If he had never been arguing with father that night, he might not have slipped up. The man with too sharp teeth wouldn't have caught him. He would never had been changed into the same monster that poisoned father in the first place. With the Brotherhood distrustful of his new nature, Evie stricken with grief and rage and the Order set on taking over all of England, Jacob must find a way to live with the monster he was made into... and see to it that the man who turned him against his will is put down like the beast he is.[tldr: A retelling of Assassin's Creed Syndicate with Jacob as a vampire hunting his Sire who he believes is a Templar.]





	1. Chapter 1

Jacob had been human once. He and Evie had been born as such. And father... father had been human too. It was because he was human that when he was caught during a botched mission the bite had poisoned him as it did. There had been no cure. The doctors could do nothing as every breath became painful and he started coughing up blood. Fortunately it was not contagious. Still Jacob avoided being around the man more than necessary. Father had always lectured them about being separate islands from the others, cautioned against making friends or falling in love. Evie took his words to heart. Jacob had always seen them as the haunted ramblings of a heartbroken man who never healed after his wife died.

It was why they fought so often. And had they not fought that day before the mission maybe Jacob would not have fumbled his end of it. He might not have taken those bullets in the shoulder. He might not have been caught by a hooded man with too sharp teeth. He would not have been bitten and drained near dry. He would not have had that same man prop him up against the wall and feed him the man's inhuman blood. He would not have spent the rest of the night screaming in agony as his body died and was reborn under the careful watch of the man who kept to the shadows. 

When it was done he fell into a deep sleep and when he woke he was not out in the open but hidden away in the cellar of his own home. He was not chained though. The door was not locked. But the place smelled of the mysterious man so he knew he had been brought and left here. He could feel the heat from where the sun shone through the small window. His instincts screamed to stay away from it, that it would burn. He had known then what had happened to him. He felt both a bolt of fear and a deep despair sweep through him at the same time. He was a monster now. A monster like the one that had slowing been killing father.

Jacob stayed in the basement until the sun had set completely. He pulled himself to his feet then and cautiously made his way into the main house. His nose let him know there was only one person here, one that smelled of sickness and poison. He didn't think as he made his way to where father was no doubt trying to settle down and sleep. There was a candle still lit. He slipped inside while the man's eyes were still closed but watched as they slowly fought to open at the sound of the door closing behind him. Bleary, cloudy eyes stared in his direction. The man he fought with seemed so weak now. Why had they fought earlier? 

"Jacob?"

"Yes, father?"

"You... what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Evie... she told me you were missing. She was looking for you all day. She'll be back soon but... what happened? Where were you?"

What could he say? What could he tell this dying man? The truth? That he had been reckless? That he was turned into a monster instead of killed for reasons that he quite frankly couldn't fathom?

He stepped closer instead, hating how he could practically smell death on his father but not wanting him to strain himself to speak. "I managed to trip an alarm on my way out. Took a couple of good hits before I took most of 'em down. I didn't want to accidentally lead them here so I went somewhere else to lay low until the coast was clear."

"You worried us..."

"Sorry."

Ethan Frye reached for him and without thinking Jacob caught his hand. He saw his father's brow knit for a moment. "Your hands are like ice..."

"It's cold outside."

"Your hands were always warm."

He looked like he was going to open his mouth to say something more but a coughing fit took his breath instead. Jacob helped him sit up, grabbed a nearby cloth to cough into. It didn't take long for red to stain through the material. His instincts told him his father didn't have long now. When the fit passed, he guided his father to lay back again, setting aside the blood stained cloth for him. He couldn't help but wrinkle his nose against the stench of it. Fortunately the man in the bed was too tired to notice it.

His every breath was ragged now. It rattled in his chest as if he was struggling against the bars of a cage. He was so focused on the sound of it, holding one of his father's weak hands he almost missed the sound of someone coming back to the house though he could not mistake those heels clattering against wood as anyone other than Evie. Her steps were slow as if she exhausted. He imagined she would be.

She knocked quietly at the bedroom door for a second then stepped inside, her emerald eyes wide when she saw Jacob was already there. "What- How-?!"

"I'll tell you later," he promised, "He doesn't have much longer left."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

Evie looked at him suspiciously for a second but did as he asked and traded places with him to sit by their father's side. Jacob stepped away to give them the illusion of privacy, finding a quiet space in the shadows where he would not obviously be in sight. He watched as Ethan forced his eyes open one more time. He listened to his father's last words then the sound of that horrible rattle that was his breath in his chest stopping... followed not long after by his weary heart. Evie burst into tears. Jacob felt numb. At least the man's suffering was over. 

Carefully Evie folded Ethan Frye's hands over his chest then pulled the white sheet of his sick bed over his head. Jacob looked to the nearby clock. He would write down the time for the death certificate later. The doctor would need a witness anyway and Evie was more likely to break down. He left the room quietly, letting Evie compose herself while he waited in his room for the inevitable questions. There were several hours until daybreak anyway. That meant he had a few hours to figure out how to block it out... or even if he was going to keep living here.

He had just decided to cover the windows with blankets so he could sleep as soon as the sun rose when Evie stepped into his room without pretense and stormed over with a blazing fury in her eyes. Had he been himself he might not have been able to catch her wrist before she struck him. He saw the flash of surprise across her face before the anger replaced it. "What did you do, Jacob? Where did you go? You didn't come back last night! I heard the damn alarm go off! I thought you were dead for sure!"

"It's complicated."

"Complicated? Complicated?! How is it complicated Jacob?! What happened!"

He let go of her wrist and stepped away, all of his senses well aware of where she was. He could hear her heart thumping loudly in her chest. He could smell the leather of her dress, the salt of her tears and the richness of her blood beneath her skin. He could see her as if she was standing in the bright sunlight though he was fairly sure she couldn't see him very well in the moonlight. So he lit the closest light source and let her get a real good look at him while he spoke.

"I was almost out when one of the bastards saw me. He tripped the alarm somehow. But I managed to get out and get away from them. Well, all but one of them." He ran his fingers along his neck till he found the scars left behind from that monster's bite. He turned so they showed in the light. He heard Evie's sharp intake of breath and her heart rate increase. "I... I wasn't poisoned Evie. He bled me dry. Then he..."

"Made you into one of them."

Jacob nodded, unable to bring himself to say the words. He looked at the mirror Evie stood in front of, hating that in the polished silver he could not see himself. "I don't know how I got here. I woke up in the basement a few hours ago. He must have made sure to... make me feed before he left me here though." It was the only reason he could think of that he hadn't flown into an animalistic frenzy at the smell of healthy human blood even if it was his twin's.

"And father?"

Jacob turned his startled gaze to her red eyes now, seeing a different anger spark in them than before. He saw her hands clench at her side. He felt his nails itch in response. He didn't look at his hands. He knew his nails were longer now, sharper, stronger. More like claws. "What about him?"

"Did you kill him?"

"No. He was like that when I got upstairs. As far as he knows -knew- I lay low to evade some Templars on my tail before returning home."

He saw her twitch a second before she leapt at him and he dodged her easily even as she spun to kick at him with her shoes. But his bedroom wasn't very large. He dodged a couple more blows before she had him pinned back against the wall, her hidden blade out and reaching for his throat though he was holding both her wrists to keep either one from stabbing him with blades that smelled like poison. "Give me a reason, vampire," she hissed, "give me one damned good reason why I should let you live!"

"Because I am still me, Evie," Jacob growled in reply, doing his best to avoid holding her delicate human wrists too tight as to not break them, "I'm still your twin. I've bitten no one and nothing of my own choice much less poisoned someone like that monster did father."

"And what will you do for food? Who will you drain dry to sustain yourself?"

"Templars and their ilk. We kill 'em anyway. I think as long as their blood is fresh it will work."

"And if you should lose control?"

Jacob let her arm slip a bit, letting her blade get just close enough that if he leaned forward just a little bit it would burn. What exactly was in it that made it burn he didn't know. Not yet anyway. But he knew it would burn and burns were never pleasant to deal with. "Then you can kill me yourself. I know you can do it if you had to."

The strength pushing the blade toward him eased off but Jacob did not let that arm go until he saw in her eyes that she reached some kind of decision. With her own growl she turned on her heel away from him and Jacob stayed where he was, watching her, though he felt his nails return to how they were before as her threatening posture eased. With father's death so fresh he doubted she'd take the blade to him tonight. Maybe during the day but not now. Not when he was the only family she had left.

After a long while, Evie turned to look at him. Her eyes were glassy with fresh tears. She looked as tired as he felt inside. "Fine. You keep control of yourself, Jacob, and not only will the others not be told about this but I will stay my blade. The second you step out of line, the moment you feed on an innocent or willingly poison someone, though, you're dead. Again. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly."

Jacob waited until she brushed passed him to leave the room before he moved away from his bureau and let out a quiet sob of frustration. He ran his hands through his hair and pulled some of it right at the roots, knowing better than to unleash his anger on the things in his room. They'd break and he'd have even less than he did now. So instead he let his anger sweep through him and fall as soundless tears. He'd let his grief out now while he was alone and still could. He had too much work to do to get the house ready for the doctor. At least no one would question the blackout curtains in a house of mourning. Not for a while. Hopefully it would be long enough to devise a more permanent solution.


	2. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George, Master Assassin of the Brotherhood and close friend of their father, comes by the Frye home to say his goodbyes to Ethan. Knowing at least one senior member of the Brotherhood should be informed, Jacob confesses the truth of what he is... and the man's reaction is not unexpected but all the confirmation that Jacob needed.

Evie elected to wait until the next night to inform George of their father's passing as she knew the man would come to the house to confirm it for himself. Fortunately the pair of them already had appropriate funeral garb that they carefully dressed in, avoiding father's room completely until after the sun had set. Jacob had even taken the time to shave the scruff from his face before he helped his sister with her long hair. All black looked wrong on her, he thought as he pinned the last of the long braids in place, even if she was in mourning. Evie as too full of life, too passionate and dedicated to the cause. But it would be a year before she could wear something with more color in it at least. At least if they stayed in Crawley.

"How do you think George is going to react when we tell him?" Evie asked seemingly out of nowhere until Jacob remembered that she couldn't see him at all in the polished silver of her mirror, "with father's death so recent..."

"It's a good thing we waited until night to tell him," Jacob replied he stepped back to let her check to make sure her hair was as she wanted it, "If he's going to chase me out I don't have to worry about burning to death when I step foot outside."

"You really think he'd chase you out?"

"Why not? I'm an abomination now, a monster. I'm the same thing that killed father and you know how close they were."

"But surely he'd see the use in having such a skilled hunter on our side? Especially with London and the Grandmaster so close..."

"Eventually. I doubt it's something he'd consider right away."

"And if he does chase you out?"

"I'll find someplace relatively nearby to hole up."

She turned to him then, her eyes still red from her weeping earlier in the day but her make up as perfect as ever and her expression one of resignation if not defeat. Jacob wished he could make things easier but he really couldn't. Not with what he was now. "I'll do what I can to make him see reason, Jacob. You didn't have a choice and as long as you're in control of yourself there's no reason to treat you like you're any different."

"Well other than sending me out in the day to do reconnaissance or something."

"Other than that yes."

They laughed softly for just a few seconds before the moment of levity was gone and the somber mood that had fallen over their home reasserted itself. "I... I should get to the living room. Keep the fire going."

"Yes. I have to find the right hat with the veil."

"I thought you had it out already." 

"I did but then I think I moved it."

He knew what she meant. Evie needed a few more moments to herself before she faced George... and their father's body again. So he said nothing about it and saw himself out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. He hoped keeping his hands by the fire would at least make it less obvious what he was. 

Jacob was careful as he set the logs then the match to catch them aflame to avoid getting the soot on his black clothes. As soon as the flame caught though his every instinct screamed at him to get as far away from it as possible. He shrank back unconsciously for just a moment before he was able to get ahold of himself and fight the urge away. The fire was safe in the fire place. He had been near it hundreds of times without burning himself and it wasn't sunlight. Nothing bad would happen, he kept assuring the vampiric instincts as he made himself step closer. It took a while to calm it down enough that he didn't feel a bolt of panic as he stood close.

He had just gotten it under control when he heard a quiet knock at their door. He expected to see sadness in George but not the exhaustion and the slump to his normally proud shoulders. He smelled the salt of the man's tears still staining his cheeks and the gin on his breath. Maybe he had taken father's death a bit harder than Jacob had thought. "Jacob..." The man's voice was quieter than he had ever heard it. "… My deepest condolences on your loss."

"Thank you," Jacob said and meant it as he stepped back to let the man in, "The doctor has already been by. Made it official."

"He is at peace now, at least. The pain has stopped."

And wasn't that a small mercy. "And mother has company now."

He let George steel himself a moment before climbing the stairs to father's room. He would be moved in the morning to a proper mortuary for preparation. Jacob was pretty sure the stench of death would leave with him. It smelled like rot and filth and he had to fight to keep from visibly recoiling at it as they got closer. Evie joined them as they passed her room holding onto Jacob's arm for support. Her hand was tight on his arm but it didn't hurt. Not anymore.

They had expected George to stoically keep himself together when he stepped into their father's room. They did not expect to see the man in tears as he pulled the sheet away from Ethan's face and lowered himself to sit next to him. He murmured something that was too soft for Evie to hear but Jacob heard clearly... something he honestly wished he could unhear but at the same time believed it made sense. Their father never had remarried and he and George had been unusually close... even before the sickness. It wasn't the norm in the Brotherhood, not by far, but the Brothers who were... so inclined... were not so ostracized as society at large might have. So long as they could do their work for the Brotherhood, few members cared.

That didn't mean they flaunted anything though, as was evidenced by the fact that Jacob (and he was sure Evie) were unaware of just how close their father and George really were. That would make revealing their next bit of news harder once George had composed himself a bit more. The man was already heartbroken. Add in that suddenly he had cocked things up and become a vampire? Jacob wasn't so sure the man would forgive him any time this decade. If he wasn't outright killed for it.

After a few long moments, Jacob and Evie left George alone with their father's body and went down to the kitchens where Jacob prepared some tea for Evie and George. He had tried, earlier, to consume tea but his stomach had rebelled so sharply he had been sick. It was something he would have to figure out how to work around later. There were bigger concerns right now.

By the time Jacob had the tea ready, he brought it out to where Evie was sitting by the fire and prepared a cup for her just the way she liked it. She looked empty. Tired. Perhaps speaking with the doctor earlier today in his stead had taken more of a toll on her that he had initially thought. They sat in silence for a while by the fire before George made it down and Jacob was nice enough to let him find a seat on his own though he did prepare the man his tea. 

An hour passed before they spoke again, Jacob only moving to refill their tea mugs when they emptied. He was fairly certain that if he could still drink he'd have preferred something stronger but as he couldn't he'd just have to endure the awkwardness without it. "What will you do now?" George asked, "Have the services been arranged? A lawyer contacted about his Last Will?"

"I had planned on arranging the services tomorrow," Evie said quietly, "and then finding an executor for his will. I'll place an obituary announcement for him in the local paper and then send you a notice for when his wake and funeral will be."

"Anything I can do?"

"I can handle it. This... this has been a long time coming. It's the least I can do for him."

George turned his attention to Jacob who had taken to standing at the window watching the stars above the neighbor's roof. He hated oppressive silences. "What about you, Jacob? What are you doing?"

He didn't turn around. "Holding down the fort while Evie is out. Receiving visitors while she's gone. Helping the mortician get father to the mortuary."

"You would not escort her?"

"I... I can't."

Jacob watched as George straightened in his chair. Despite the man's grief, Jacob could feel the weight of the man's suspicion. He didn't visibly move but did brace himself for the fight. "Why?"

And this was why Jacob had been dreading this confrontation. How could he phrase this in such a way as to avoid the silver blade in his neck? Or gut? Or heart? Or head? He doubted he could avoid it completely but he going to try. Evie had enough to worry about.

Deciding he was not enough of a coward to say this with his back turned, Jacob faced the man and kept his hands open but ready next to his sides. "That mission you sent Evie and I on a few days ago? The one in the warehouses out in the countryside?"

"What about it?"

"We eliminated the target, as was reported, but... I tripped an alarm on my way out. Evie had already gotten out but I was hit, bleeding fairly badly. The men couldn't chase me far but there was one amongst them that wasn't a man. He... he caught me. Bit me. Changed me..."

George got to his feet abruptly, his red eyes filled with hate. Jacob, however, was ready for the movement. He had taken off his gauntlet when he had changed into the mourning clothes. He was unarmed with anything other than his natural instincts, instincts that bristled at the very idea of this man considering himself a threat. "I was forcibly turned into a vampire," he said slowly but clearly, not shifting his gaze away from the man he had all but considered a second father who looked ready to kill, "It is not something I can change."

"So you did it. You killed him."

"No. He died on his own. The disease had run its course."

"As if I would believe your word, _monster_."

Jacob felt his nails grow as the smell of the silver in the hidden blade grew stronger. The room grew brighter and he had to fight to urge to snarl. "I am no more a monster than I was two days ago," he snapped, unable to keep completely from snarling, "but if you want to make this a fight, then let's take this outside."

George looked like he was going to lunge but Evie got between them and used all of her strength to hold him back. Jacob just stayed where he was, glancing at the silver whose stench had replaced the smell of death in the house. The fire was bad enough. The silver set the fight or flight instinct into overdrive. He could barely control it. 

Whatever Evie had said to George, Jacob couldn't hear but he heard George's furious words. "You are defending that beast?! It needs to be put down like the abomination it is! That thing is no longer Jacob. Your brother is dead. He died that night when he was stupid enough to get himself caught."

And that was all Jacob needed to hear. Evie may be his twin, his sister, his reflection in a great many ways but in this... in this he was utterly alone. If George hated him this much then staying here would only endanger Evie. He had to leave. So he would. 

While Evie kept George distracted, Jacob moved faster than any human could hope to match to the front door. He threw it open just as they realized he had moved in the first place. He showed them his hand as he removed the ring he wore with the crest of the Brotherhood on it, the only piece of jewelry he allowed himself to wear with the sign on it as he got in far too many brawls to risk wearing it as a necklace or on his belt or something. He set the ring on the nearby table, hating the sadness in Evie's eyes and the utterly murderous look in George's. 

"Then if I am not welcome in my sister's house or with the Brotherhood, then I will find my own path," he told them, proud of himself for keeping his voice steady when all he wanted to do was weep, "This is my first and only warning, George. Anybody you send after me will die. I'm not joining the Templars, but I am no longer part of the Brotherhood. After all, you wouldn't want to sully their name by having a monster amongst their ranks would you?"

"Jacob..."

"I'll write when I can, Evie," he promised his sister then turned to run into the night. He knew the area around the village well and with his new body's speed he was able to navigate it at a much faster run than any of the Brotherhood could hope to keep up with. He was free. So why did it hurt so much?


	3. A Chance at Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie convinces George to give Jacob a chance to prove himself useful to the Brotherhood.

Weeks passed. Jacob wrote to Evie as soon as he found an abandoned farmhouse to live in not overly far from Crawley but far enough from most places that no one would think to look for him there. He had found the former homeowners dead from what smelled like a disease that had swept through the area. The neighbors had already known about it apparently because the next morning the mortician came through the house while Jacob hid in the basement to gather the bodies, black out the home with mourning curtains and locked the door behind himself. What became of the family's livestock he had no idea but what Jacob did know was that with so much open space around the house, he was free to explore the limits of his abilities while he hunted animals to satisfy the hunger in him.

It was only when he felt safe and established in this abandoned home that he dared write to Evie, knowing that others in the Brotherhood would try and trace him through the letters. He told her that even as he was if she needed his help he would gladly be there for her despite unable to attend father's funeral and be the strength she needed to be. He hoped her friends in the Brotherhood had been there... and those he had to warn away before were smart enough to stay away.

It was lonely but Jacob managed, even setting up little traps and tricks about the place to make any would be buyers think the place was haunted. It was even fun to see how hard he had to push a few of them to get them to leave. But he hadn't been a master assassin for nothing. Evie may have been better at stealth but that didn't mean he was a slouch about it. He hurt no one though. Just scared them well enough to send them away. No one saw his face. Not even the rare assassin that was sent after him.

But then there came a message from Evie, a mission George had sent her on that required both a target to be eliminated and a artifact stolen. She claimed that George had already known she was going to call on Jacob for help and allowed it only because "If that animal is going to kill someone, might as well let it kill someone useful". Jacob might have been more offended if the fact that he even held the note meant that Evie thought higher of him than George did anyway and this was a chance to work with his sister again even if it was just for one evening.

He wrote back, saying he'd meet her at their place the evening of the mission. He needed to get at least some of their equipment back if he wanted to make his assassination look professionally done. That morning, when he retreated into his bed in the basement of the house, he had felt better than he had in days. Not even the fact that this job could very easily be a trap could dampen his mood. 

The evening of the assassination, Jacob waited until the sun was low enough that it wouldn't burn his skin through his dark clothes and ran with inhuman speed to Crawley where, just as the last of the sun's rays were fading over the horizon, he met with Evie who stared at his outfit until he dropped the face mask and took off the heavy black gloves he had bought from a merchant for a beer during one of his rare ventures into the city. She certainly looked healthier than she did before. He could smell no trace of tears on her. "What?" He asked, purposely keeping his tone light, "I have very sensitive skin now you know."

He thought he should have been surprised when George stepped out of the house behind Evie, his hood drawn low as if to hide his face although it was completely useless to a creature whose eyes could see in the night like most saw in the day. The man no longer smelled drunk or sad. He just smelled of silver and death. So he had done what father had done in his grief when mother had died; buried himself in the work. "George," Jacob said civilly with false cheer as if he had never really left the home, "fancy seeing you by! I would have thought you'd rather remain hidden in a corner somewhere ready to take me out personally for offending you by existing." Okay so maybe he wasn't entirely civil but it was as close as he was going to get.

"I might still have you taken out, Frye, but before that Evie insisted I give you a chance to prove you'd still be of some use to the Brotherhood even as you are."

Oh good. So she had talked some sense into him. "Fantastic. Where are we going, who am I killing, and how do you want it done?"

George frowned but answered Jacob's questions. The target was the head of a factory, a minor key in the grand scheme of things but a key none of the less and his assassination would distract from the Brotherhood's true purpose of retrieving the suspected piece of Eden. When Jacob suggested making as much noise as possible on the far side of the complex after he was done with the initial target, George immediately vetoed the idea. "You may have forgotten, but we stay our blades from the flesh of the innocent." 

"I wasn't suggesting mass slaughter. Why would you think I meant that?"

Jacob was amused to watched George work his jaw as if forcefully swallowing the words he wanted to say so he could play nice. 

"What did you mean then?"

"Purposely trip some alarms. Lead a few of the little ones on a chase. They'll go to get the boss after a while, find him dead, and then get everyone they've got after me, leaving Evie clear to take what she needs and get out without anyone still alive being the wiser until much later."

"Or they could lock down the whole facility and make your sister's task harder."

That was a possibility and they had no real way of communicating to each other when their part of the job was done short of arriving at the rendezvous point. "Fine. No distraction. Quiet in and out."

"Quiet in and out," Evie confirmed as the sun finally set completely, "we'll be back before the sunrise."

"Safety and peace, Evie. May the Creed guide you."

Jacob didn't miss that the words were not said to him but didn't bother to bring it up. Instead he followed after Evie to the train station where they would catch the last train of the evening to the warehouse they needed to get to. Along the way she handed him his gauntlet with his hidden blade, some throwing knives and the brass knuckles he so favored. The weight of the gauntlet felt familiar and right when he got the contraption on right despite running at what would be a jog for him. By the time the train arrived everything was carefully tucked away and latched in place. If Evie was impressed she didn't mention it.

Getting on the train was the easy part even as they found a spot in the carriage they used to hide out and look at the map someone else had stolen or created before the mission. Evie lit a small candle she had brought and Jacob wrinkled his nose at the smell of the match for a second before he focused on the layout. Evie laid out her plan, pointing to locations and people she was no doubt briefed upon before she even set foot outside the house. Jacob was right in his original assumption. Upon getting into the facility, their targets were at opposite ends of the complex. 

"Pick your initial infiltration point," he told her, "I'll figure my way over to the target from there. You need better light to see by anyway." 

She looked up at him with those green eyes of hers and frowned. "I have to get off further in the facility than you do." She pointed to a spot earlier in the map where the train slowed to go through a station. "Here's where you get off. It should be a straight shot to your target."

"And your path?"

Her finger moved to another point, one a fair distance inside the facility. "I am going to get in through here."

Jacob shrugged and settled back. They had a solid five minutes or so before they got to the station he needed to get off at. "So," he said while Evie continued to study the map, "What has really been going on since... I left." 'Was chased off' was a better way to put it maybe but he didn't think it needed to be said. He also got the impression in the letters that he got from Evie that she thought they were being intercepted by someone. It had taken him a little while to realize she had been writing in a code he hadn't quite gotten the key for. "What excuse did George give for me not being there anymore?"

"As far as the others know, you couldn't handle being part of the Brotherhood with father gone. You left to go find yourself." 

"And the Council?"

"The Council knows the truth. They have another Brotherhood keeping an eye on you."

"Hence the coded letters."

"I thought they were going to read them."

"If they did they were probably baffled. Even I was confused at some points."

"Sorry."

"It's fine. But how about you? How have you been holding up, sister?"

"It's... it's not been easy. Father's will left the house and everything in it to the both of us and what money he had I had to spend on his funeral costs."

"So we have a lovely house for your dowry and whatever money we come up with for ourselves?"

She glared at the mention of a dowry but Jacob didn't take it back. If anything he grinned. "I mean, I may be around for a very long time but if you don't get married at least then some rumors are going to spread about us."

She blinked at him. "What?! But we're siblings!"

"And? Rumors don't care about that detail. And since I can't marry..."

"Jacob. Stop. We are not talking about this."

"Well fine then." He stood and looked out of the train at the passing trees, already seeing the train slowing slightly. "We can talk about it later then. Like when this is all over."

"No. No we are not talking about this any time soon."

Jacob laughed as he got up to the rooftop of the train, already plotting exactly how he was going to do this. He couldn't afford to fumble this one. A quick in and out in a massive complex with a lot of likely lower minions about the place. He tested his hidden blade, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the silver in it, and once he was sure it was functioning well he leapt from the slowing train onto a nearby crane and from it to the building next to it. Honestly his best bet was to slip between the workers, use his less-than-perfectly-clean appearance to his advantage and let the foreman and his overseers think that he was just another one of the workers. At least the Templars were easy to spot in their bright red uniforms. 

He made his way through the workers and across the highest levels of the forges, only using his inhuman talents when his skills as an assassin alone weren't enough. The lackeys were easy to fool into thinking they hadn't seen anything. He even was able to hypnotize one into unlocking a few doors for him so he could slip through without drawing attention to himself. It was almost disturbingly easy to get to the building he needed and slip up into the highest levels without anyone noticing. The pipes made crossing over the heads of the men and their overseers almost too simple. And the target had an open roof to his office? Jacob almost considered this job beneath him!

Still he waited until the man had sent the woman he had been dictating a letter to out of the room before he swept into it, catching the man from behind and pulling him well away from the windows so none of the others could see what was going on. The man tried to shout but Jacob was quick to cover his mouth with his too cold hand, careful to avoid scratching the man's skin with his claws. "Now, now," he murmured as he carefully let his vampire fangs slip over his normal teeth, "Wouldn't want to make a mess now would we?" He bit the man before he could respond, his inhuman strength keeping the man in his arms still while he drank his fill. 

After a while though the fighting stop and the man became a dead weight in his arms. As much as he wanted to drain his victim dry, that would be suspicious so he carefully laid the man down and used his hidden blade to carve the man's neck along the lines his fangs had left behind to make it look like he had died just from that. The silver in the hidden blade made the blood that stained the ground smell like poison to his senses so he felt no sadness over wasting it. Instead he carefully wiped the wound with the feather he had been given to prove the death of his target and tucked the feather away before drawing back to the shadows and climbing up the walls again. 

Getting out of the building was as easy as getting in and by the time he found his way to the meeting point with Evie he couldn't help but feel a little proud of himself. At least until he heard the explosion and felt the ground beneath his feet rumble for just a moment. "Evie..." No. She was fine. The explosion, while not part of the plan, may not have caught her in it. She was too fast for that... even if she was human. He just had to wait and she would make her appearance. Yes. She would be fine. He just had to wait. A few minutes later he was proven right and he almost laughed in relief. Good. Mission... semi-accomplished at least. Enough that George probably wouldn't be so murderous toward him anymore… hopefully.


	4. London Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tired of the lack of progress in Crawley, Evie and Jacob decide to head to London and do what they can about the Order there.

It wasn't enough. George treated him like a dog that had performed a trick adequately and Jacob had to restrain himself from actually attacking the man. He settled in his old room during the day, deciding to head back to the homestead he had been using. Or he had until Evie brought him an alternative. "Everything we do in Crawley is pointless so long as the Templars hold London and the industries there," she had said, "so why don't we go see if we can help out with that?"

"You want to go to London?" He replied. "You would set me, of all people, loose on London?"

"You could use your... talents to do things in the night that I can't and I will do what I can during the day to make sure whatever you do at night goes smoothly."

"But then how will you keep an eye on me? Watch to make sure I don't lose myself?"

She had no answer for that right away so he settled back into the chair he had taken for this discussion. There was nothing else for it really. If she wanted to make sure he'd be held accountable they needed to expand their network. "What about forming a gang? We'll call them 'The Rooks'. Not formal members of the Brotherhood but our soldiers against whatever the Templars' got going to keep the people under their thumb."

"A gang." Evie didn't sound impressed.

"The more eyes and ears we got in the city the better. Besides, they can keep an eye on me, make sure I don't lose it."

"And if they should catch you at it? What will they do?"

"They'll work for both of us. They'll bring you word of whatever happened. You'll know to take the silver knife to me."

It wasn't a foolproof plan but it was something and as it was morning she had plenty of time to consider it. Thankful that the curtains she had left in his room blocked even the faintest hint of sunlight from reaching his bed, Jacob had gotten up from the chair and stretched. "Think on it. I'll stay here if you want to go this afternoon and secure a place for us to sleep at least. Maybe make contact with whoever the Brotherhood has out there."

"He has a name."

"Which I'm sure you know but I really don't care about. Now. If you don't mind, some of us need sleep."

She frowned at him then but apparently was too tired to bother arguing it. She left the room with a huff, quietly closing the door behind her and the vampire breathed a sigh of relief as he slipped out of his heavy clothes and got ready for sleep. God only knew what kind of chaos would await them in London much less how exactly they were going to accomplish taking down such a powerful branch of the Order with just the two of them and whoever their contact was. It would be a challenge, that much was for certain. He just hoped they were up to the task of it. It wasn't as if there as much room left for failure.

**

At some point that afternoon, Evie went to London during the day without him and left a note for her brother on the kitchen table along with her key to the house. There was a location to meet her at in London and a request that he lock up behind himself. As if he would leave the place open. They may be in the small town of Crawley but that didn't mean there weren't thieves who would loved to get their grubby mitts on some of the polished silver Evie had been left for when she got married as Jacob was sure she'd catch some man's eye in London eventually. He'd just have to make sure that man was worthy of her. Even if she was technically the older of the two of them.

When he arrived in London, Jacob had to admit he felt more at home in this place than he had in Crawley. There was something about it that spoke to both the man and the monster within him. Maybe it was the cluttered city itself making it easy to hide from unwanted eyes or the sheer number of foul human beings that littered the streets, Templar or not, that made easy prey. He had been good though as he walked across the roofs of various buildings and homes, and kept his hands, claws and fangs to himself. It would do no good to reveal himself just yet. Not without knowing the players of the game and how they maneuvered.

Evie was exactly where he expected to find her along with a man who was still, for some inane reason, wearing the white of the Brotherhood. He waited until he got close enough to speak without drawing attention to themselves before he said anything about it. "How in the blazes have the Templars not found you? You could not have made yourself any more obvious if you tried!"

"Jacob," the man said though with a noticeable lack of true enthusiasm, "it's been a while. I am sorry to hear of your father's passing. He was a good man."

"Yes, he was. I'm sure that if he could have had a say in it he would have wanted to be here with us but alas. I presume you have already introduced Evie to the city?" 

"I have."

"You know, boys, it's rude to talk about someone as if they aren't there."

"Why yes, sister it is."

He watched her carefully as she stood up, mildly impressed she could keep her balance with the height of the heels on her boots despite the angle of the roof. She folded her arms under her chest and gave him a look that he could only see with his inhuman sight. He laughed and shrugged it off. "Hey! I wasn't the only one doing it!" 

"Regardless," she said after a moment, focusing on something out in the distance though what exactly she was looking at he couldn't tell, "There are several key factors about London you need to be aware of Jacob before we do any kind of hunting in this city."

"And we need to be on the roof to discuss them because...?"

"We can't exactly afford the neighbors listening in at the place we're staying at."

"And no one can hear us here?"

"The apartments directly below us are not occupied and if we keep our voices down no one in the other buildings will hear us. Not everyone has ears like you Jacob."

"Fine. So tell me. What is the layout here?"

As she explained the factors at work within the city, Jacob sighed as he realized he would certainly have to be careful where (or who) he ate. The Blighters were certainly more widespread than anticipated and had nearly wiped out their rivals in the city. The strongest remaining gang would have to be the option they'd use for the Rooks provided they could earn the gang's loyalty and find a means that wasn't entirely harmful to the people of London to make sure they got paid decently enough to stay with them. Then there was the fact that each separate division within the gang was run by a lesser Templar, each more ruthless and cunning than the last. To control the territory was to publicly defeat the Blighters with a set of the Rooks. It wasn't a simple matter of eliminating the lieutenants (no matter how easy it seemed). 

Then there were the high ranking members of society that worked with the Order, members that so far they didn't have any real names for. These people would have to be taken out carefully as to not leave traces although he was sure that the Order would eventually figure it out. There were only so many groups that could walk away from a murder scene without leaving evidence behind and even fewer that would target them. 

Interestingly enough though, Evie did have one bit of good news. "I have made a few friends in the day that you should meet tonight if you get the chance, friends that could prove useful to us in the long run."

"Really? And here I thought you weren't the friendly type."

"I can be friendly when I want to."

"As rare as that is."

He laughed quietly when she hit him barely able to feel it through his thick clothes. He could practically feel Henry rolling his eyes from where he stood nearby watching them and keeping an eye out for eavesdroppers or spies. Clearly he had no idea what he was getting into. 

She named several names for him. Claire, the child head of the urchins and a Detective Abberline (though she said to limit how much to trust him as he was one of the few decent police in London) were going to help them provided they gave a little back for their effort. She also had a pair of names for him. Harold Drake and Rexford Kaylock. "Whitechapel is their weakest point," she told him as she finished, "we take back Whitechapel, it gives us a strong hold to hold onto regardless of how we manage for the rest of London." 

"Two men? We just need to eliminate two men?"

"No. Claire needs Radclyffe mill liberated of its child workers and the Spitalfields gang headquarters is the stronghold of the local group of Blighters. I saw them holding a number of rival gang members hostage. Might execute them if we wait too long to make an example of them and try to scare off the rest of the gangs."

Well, they certainly had their work cut out for them. "I can't do anything about the mill during the night," Jacob said after a long moment, "But I can probably take out that headquarters and hunt this Harold Drake. That should bring this Rexford out of hiding."

"You sure you can do it?" 

"I know I can though perhaps not all tonight if we don't stop chatting. I assume you have someplace to sleep?"

"I have secured lodgings for us for the moment."

"Can you show me where those are so I don't have to hunt for them while exhausted come dawn?"

"Of course."

"Follow me then," Henry said perhaps a little more loudly than they had been speaking but Jacob was fairly certain he couldn't be quieter if he tried. He got down from the roof with ease, Jacob and Evie quickly following after down to the streets and alleyways that to others would seem dark and menacing. Not to Jacob though. Already he felt more at home here than he did in Crawley or even that homestead he had temporarily taken over. He wasn't sure what that said about him... and the man he was going to become the more time he spent as this creature rather than a man.

The small shop they came to was nothing remarkable. Even before he stepped inside Jacob wrinkled his nose against the strong incense that filled the place. It smelled spicy and sweet in ways he imagined reminded Henry of home as even in this darkness it was clear he wasn't native to England. Together the three of them slipped inside the place and Henry showed them to the room they were going to share, Evie by night and Jacob by day. Immediately he could see a problem with it but it wasn't something he could say in front of their host.

"Thank you for your help Greenie," he said politely mostly because he needed the man to leave as quickly as possible, "I'll get to work in a bit. Want to catch up a bit with my sister first if you don't mind."

"Of course. Make yourselves comfortable and don't hesitate to ask if you need something." 

Henry gave them a little bow as he left, closing the door behind him as Jacob waited until he heard the man's footsteps retreat before he spoke. "We're going to need thicker curtains. Those are much too thin."

"Did you bring the ones from home?"

"No. Didn't think we'd have a room with curtains quite that thin."

"You could always sleep in the closet or something. Someplace away from windows. Claim you can't sleep in the sun."

"Which would seem odd if I have always been this way."

"Then you have to go retrieve those curtains."

Jacob sighed and thought about it. Stealing in the city already wouldn't do him any good but if he wanted to survive the daylight hours with his secret intact he wouldn't have much of a choice. "Fine. I'll go home and get those curtains then with the time I have left see what I can do about getting the Rooks started." He'd be hungry after all this running around though. Hopefully the Blighters would be easy enough to take out quietly he could get a drink off of one or two of them before they died.


	5. Fledglings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie gets her tasks done by day and Jacob frees the Clippers at night. Already things are starting to look up.

The trip home and back took longer than Jacob would have liked to get home, grab the curtains he needed and come back to London but he managed to do so and put up the curtains while disturbing Evie as little as possible before the sun started to rise. The quick snack he had grabbed on the trip back from Crawley (in the form of a horse someone had left out in the field) would be enough to tide him over into the night but barely. The next time he fed it would have to be human blood or twice the animal blood or else he would risk a madness he had only read about while at that homestead quietly squatting for all those months. 

He took a seat in the room they would share on the floor at the foot of Evie's bed, well out of the way of any sunlight even these thick curtains couldn't completely block, and waited for her to wake up and get started for the day. It didn't take as long as he thought it would honestly though Jacob made sure to close his eyes as she puttered around the place in her nightgown. "I see you got the curtains at least. Did you get any work done?"

"No. Didn't have time. I'll get the bastards tonight. I presume Harold's for the blade?"

"Yes. I'll leave him and the gang to you. I have a factory to liberate and a criminal to turn in to the law today."

"Ooo, already so busy Evie! Good thing you don't need a breather or anything."

She snorted in reply and he heard the quiet shift of her clothes as she slipped out of the nightgown and into her day clothes. How she managed her corset on her own he had no idea but somehow she managed. Maybe she didn't lace it as tightly as the other women about London seemed to, uncaring of the fashions. He moved to lean against the door to make sure Henry, who was up and puttering around the apartment too, didn't try to sneak a peek. Assassin or not he wouldn't stand a chance if he managed to piss Jacob off. Or Evie for that matter.

When she was dressed in her heavy clothes, her boots making heavy sounds once they were in place, Jacob opened his eyes and got up to help her with her hair just like they used to. He kept one ear open so he could step away from the mirror she was using in case their host got too close but otherwise just kept weaving her dark hair into the braid-crown she liked so much. It wasn't a particularly difficult style when one had practice or some else to help with. At least it was more practical than those intricate up-dos he had seen some of the city women wearing the evening before.

"So, even though you didn't spend much time in London last night, how do you find it?"

"I feel right at home here."

"You would."

"Do you not? Much easier to get around without being noticed and no matter what we wear we'll blend in somewhere. No one knows us here, all the easier, and our targets make it easy to find them."

"You have yet to deal with the gossip and the catcalls."

"One full day and already you tire of the gossip?"

"Apparently ladies of class do nothing but gossip around here. And the men in this part of town couldn't keep their eyes in their heads if they tried."

"We could just remove them."

"Not if we don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

He sighed dramatically but let the topic drop as he finished with her hair and stepped back. "There. Perfect. Now go on. I can hear your stomach grumbling from here. I'm sure Greenie would jump at the chance to prove to you his cooking skill."

"What? Why?"

"What else does a nervous young man do when hosting a pretty lady in his house?"

Evie thought on it for just a second and Jacob smirked as he watched the red flush into her cheeks. "We are not- he doesn't think of me that way!"

"Oh doesn't he?"

"He is a consummate professional!"

"And far from blind."

"What would you know about it? You've barely said ten words to each other!"

"True. But if I'm wrong and he's not making you breakfast right now please be sure to tell me."

She huffed and Jacob had no doubt she would do exactly that as she stepped out of their shared room with a swish of her skirts, leaving Jacob to slip out of his heavy clothes and into something of sleep clothes. He didn't like wearing them normally but they did help hide how not warm his skin was. Plus if someone did manage to startle him awake he'd rather not face them totally nude. He did have some sense of shame after all.

The bed was softer than he was used to but was by no means complaining about it. The sun was far away from his senses and the smells of food being cooked brought back pleasant memories as the hum of conversation flittered in and out of his hearing. He fell asleep feeling as if he had come home again. If only belief could make one's wishes come true.

**

Jacob awoke as the sun began to set to the sound of some plates clattering downstairs and a fragrant meal being prepared. When he focused his hearing he could only hear one set of footsteps in the house that sounded softer than Evie's heels. Probably Greenie trying to impress her with whatever he was making. Probably some kind of Indian dish. He might have been interested if he was fairly certain he wouldn't be sick from it. As it was he got up and dressed quickly, making sure to take an extra second to sweep his hair back with a comb before putting his cap on. Better to look like a working class guy right now. Easier to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. That and it was very difficult to try and style one's hair without a mirror to see anything with.  
He had just made it down the stairs, patting his pockets to make sure he had his brass knuckles with him when Evie returned from wherever she went. She looked tired but satisfied. She must have gotten at least one of her tasks done during the daylight. 

"Your hunt was successful?"

"The Mill was a bit tricky but I got it done and Abberline's man put but more of a fight than I wanted but I got him there. Now you just have to do your part and we'll be able to draw this Rexford out of hiding and settle this matter."

"Not a problem. You weren't hurt?"

"Nothing I can't patch up myself."

"Don't let Greenie help. I may have to cut off his hands if he touches anything he's not supposed to."

She rolled her eyes and Jacob laughed as he stepped out the front door into the cool London air. Or at least he assumed it was cool with the way the people were dressed against it. Damp maybe was a better word. There was a spattering of rain against his clothes but it wasn't too bad. Even the quiet distant rumble of thunder was comforting. He had always liked the rain. It had been soothing before. Now it seemed to wash away whatever sin he had committed... or at least made it harder for the authorities to track him and his movements.

He walked down the streets a few blocks while people ducked quickly into homes or pubs to escape the oncoming storm. When he was far enough away he slipped into a dark alleyway and leapt up to the roof. It was faster to navigate than the streets and he was far less likely to draw the Blighters’ attention by simply existing in their territory. The clouds covered the moon but there was still enough light to see by with the street lamps as bright as they were. He cracked his knuckles as he made his way toward his first target. "Time to get some work done." The Clippers weren't going to free themselves (apparently).

The headquarters, when he found it, were pretty quiet as he expected with a storm coming at night. The snipers were inside rather than standing on the rooftops and with his inhuman vision he found traces of where the captured gang members were being held. Not quite in the open but not entirely safe from the elements ether. Provided he eliminate the snipers and the leader of this little enclave. He ducked low, trading his cap for the deep leather hood on the back of his clothes. He needed to feed and this was the perfect place to do so.

The first of the snipers was easy enough to get to. They foolishly left the opposite window open and kept watching the awning under which the Clippers were being held. He sneaked up behind them easily and pulled them away from the window with a hand over their mouth and his fangs deep in the veins of their neck. The sniper fought him for a moment, they always did, but as he drank the human dry the fighting stopped. He made sure when he was done to slice their neck open and position them so it looked like they were sleeping. At least whoever found them would pause for a second before realizing they were dead.   
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before cleaning the blood off of it with his tongue and plotting how to take down the next one. From here he could see the second sniper watching the men but not this window. This one was half asleep because he didn't react until Jacob jumped him through the window and stabbed him through the heart. He stopped fighting instantly and although the inner beast within Jacob recoiled at the thought of wasting fresh meal, he refrained from drinking this man dry too. It would be too signature, too obviously the work of one person. So he made himself leave the dead man and sneak around the roof of the building to find the next sniper, then the next, then the next.

When the compound was clear of eyes watching over the gangsters, Jacob freed them from their bonds and told them to wait before swarming out. "I've got one more to take out, then this place is yours." He didn't imagine there were many others in this place, much less others that would be organized enough to put up any kind of real fight without someone to direct them.   
The rain made it tricky to scale the taller buildings again but he managed, sweeping along the lines between the buildings with ease, searching inside each building for the man that glowed gold in his otherworldly vision. He found him, sleeping with what looked like a woman who glowed red. Fine. He could butcher them both though it would be tricky to do so without calling attention to himself. He'd have to make sure to eliminate his guards first. There weren't many of them, at least not anymore.

He swept through them quickly and easily, cutting some, breaking the neck of others and by the time he reached the target's bedroom he was barely winded but more than a little high off the thrill of the hunt. He slipped inside the room quietly, closing the door behind him but making sure to tread heavily enough to wake them while he settled in the chair across from their bed. The thunder rumbled closer now, the lightning flashing across the sky, illuminating his figure. Judging by the way the woman clung to her man he made a very menacing figure indeed.

"Who are you? What do you want? Guards!"

He laughed softly from where he sat. "Don't bother. All your men are dead. And you two will be joining them shortly."

The woman reached for something under the bed, presumably a gun but Jacob was faster. He snapped her arm in his hand as he pulled it back. "Come now. Is that any way to greet your death?"

He grinned at them as they screamed in horror, knowing they'd likely see his too long fangs, his inhuman nature too intricately woven into his senses now to bother to hide. The man tried to run while he broke the woman's neck. The man he ran through with his hidden blade before he drank from him if only because this man was his main target tonight. He stopped when the Templar stopped fighting and laid him on the bed before slicing his throat open with one of the man's own blades and leaving it as if it had fallen from his hand. Perhaps not the most clever of ways to lay out the evidence but it was better than trying to take a blade like that with him. He even made sure to avoid touching the weapon with any skin that wasn't covered. The police, if they searched, would find nothing to tie any one person to this crime. Unless they were part of the Order. Maybe.

With his work here done, Jacob found the flag the gang had flown and as the rain came down hard upon him and lightning flashed across the sky he cut it down and dropped to the ground to hand it to the gangsters he had freed earlier. "It's yours now," he said, "any Blighter of importance that was here is dead. Don't waste it."

"Of course not," the man who, judging by his dress and the way he spoke, was the leader of the group that had been taken. "But who are you? Who do we thank for this?"

"The name is Jacob. Jacob Frye. My sister and I are here to help you take back London."


	6. Taking Back Whitechapel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob faces the Blighters and their leader with his new recruits by his side. At least they got a train out of the deal!

By the time Jacob had gotten back to the small shop, not only were all of his targets very very dead but he had saved enough of the Clippers from Blighters that he knew his name would get around when the sun rose and the gangsters traded off their foot traffic. The sun had slowly begun to rise but he made it inside the building and in his safe room before it got too high and threatened his skin. There was some blood on his clothes but they were dark enough that it wasn't noticeable even in the pre-dawn light of the sky as he hurried home. He'd have to be more careful but bloodied clothes were part of the territory when it came to the Brotherhood. At least he didn't wear white. 

Evie was just getting up when he slipped inside and closed the door behind him, leaning against it while again he watched her go to gather her clothes. "The headquarters and the target were both eliminated. The Clippers know my name as the one who took on the Blighters. Said I had a sister but didn't name you in case you don't want them to recognize you or something. Rexford should send a challenge through you or some other means to us within the week. Then we take him on and take back Whitechapel."

"Since when do you know so much about this kind of thing?"

"Since I asked the Clippers about Rexford and made sure word got to him that if he wanted Whitechapel back he was going to have to make a show about getting it back if he didn't want to end up like his second in command." 

"What did you do to his second in command?"

He just grinned but said nothing, let her draw her own conclusions. She would hear about it eventually. "When he sends a message to set up a day and time, make sure it's after the sunset. I want to personally introduce this Rexford to the ground. At the very least it would prove me a worthy leader of the new Rooks."

Jacob closed his eyes when it was clear she was ready to start changing. Maybe when they made a little money he'd look into a changing screen for her. Or different lodgings for him provided the income was good enough. It was all up in the air really. One step at a time.

Evie didn't speak until she had finished changing and again when she had settled into the vanity Jacob opened his eyes and went to help her pin her hair into place. "The bigger the Rooks get, the more we'll have to offer them to keep them together. I presume you have a plan?"

"Templars run the industries around here. Together with the Rooks, taking over some of those shipments that are specifically for their people should prove plenty. Just gotta make sure we're hitting the right shipments."

"Which means you want me to keep an eye out for them."

"Or have the urchins you saved do it. That was the point of saving them wasn't it?"

She sighed but said nothing. Knowing her she was going to spend all day thinking about it. She was always like that. A thinker. Jacob had preferred the physical skill and talents of the Brotherhood and now that he was -well he had to admit it eventually- a vampire, it was better in the long run if he didn't it idle for too long. He'd recruit the men. She'd handle the logistics if only to avoid letting him somehow promising too much or using even-more-than-usual unscrupulous means to ensure the men were paid enough to keep them loyal.

He yawned into the back of his hand when they were done with her hair and with his belly full of Templar blood he felt more than comfortable enough to settle in for a long nap. But first... "Did he make you breakfast yesterday Evie? Henry? Blushing all the while?"

"Yes he did make breakfast but he did not blush. Nor stammer nor any of those other maidenly things you think he might have done. The man is an Assassin, Jacob, not some fumbling child pretender."

"You sure? He might just be able to hide it better."

"He did not!"

"Alright. If you say so..."

He waited until Evie had gathered the last of her things before sitting down to take off his boots. He had some sleeping to do if he wanted to have the energy to handle the fight tonight. Not that he imagined it would be overly difficult, no matter their numbers, but that didn't mean he shouldn't take it seriously. By the time she left he had managed to strip down to his shirt and a pair of trousers (thus was at least semi-decent) when she stepped out the door to presumably yet another breakfast made by her not-admirer and the news of how his activities in the night were perceived by the people. Be barely noticed he had laid down in bed before he fell asleep.

When Jacob awoke hours later it was to the sound of the door to the room opening, prompting him to bolt awake if only to prevent an outsider from learning he a) did not breathe in his sleep and b) he slept a little too deathly still. It turned out to be just Evie but it was something he did regardless. Better to be safe than sorry in the city, even if the only other person would be Henry and the scholar was definitely not someone he needed to worry about. He doubted the man would have the stomach to hurt more than an insect. "Is it time?" He asked groggily, sitting up slowly. 

"Yes. We're to meet our target within the hour at the location he specified."

"Did you send word through the Clippers?"

"I did."

"Good. They'll meet us there. We want to make this fight as public as possible. If let the people see that we're fighting back against the Blighters they'll be less inclined to passively let them do what they want, much less help them."

He gathered his clothes and this time it was Evie's turn to turn away while he dressed quickly for the fight. He picked clothes he didn't mind getting dirty, bloody or torn as he knew they would be by the end of the fight. He even put an extra little bit of effort into his appearance (as best he could). If he was going to put on a show he was going to make sure it was a show worth watching. "You want to fight with us? It's going to a brawl mostly."

"I'd rather watch from a distance to make sure our man doesn't get away."

"He won't." No matter how long it took to get rid of the riff raff the man sent into the fight ahead of him.

"Good. Then if you're done preening, let's get going."

Henry, predictably, stayed behind but Jacob made sure that the man that had sent the initial message about the fight rode with him in the carriage to the meeting place. That there even was an arbitrator between the gangs was something he was not expecting but it certainly said something about the gangs of London that there was even a need for one. Rules and civility, it seemed, was something even the gangs in London clung to in some odd way. Fine. He could play by rules. It just made the game that much more fun really and the man seemed to understand that too.

When they arrived, Jacob exchanged his cap for his black hood and stepped out of the carriage with his hand tightening around the brass knuckles he preferred on his right hand. The Clippers gathered barely looked back at him but he smiled when he Blighters watched him warily. They probably heard about what he did to their friends. "Tell me, Rex, you ready to meet your Maker?" He said loudly enough to ensure everybody gathered could hear him, "Because I'm sure the Devil doesn't like to be kept waiting!"

He turned to his men before the Templar could reply. "Come on lads! Let's show this cock that Whitechapel doesn't belong to his sorry arse anymore!"

He led them into the fight but then focused his attention in the target himself, weaving between the fighters and not caring if any of them caught the flash of his fangs while he did so. The man was scrambling away from the fight toward something... a train from the looks of it. Too bad it wouldn't save him. 

Running faster than any human could have, Jacob caught up to and scaled the train with ease, cutting effortlessly through the humans that separated him from his prey. And if he butchered them a little more messily than usual… well. He had a target and they were stupid enough to get in his way. They really should have known better. Especially considering the state he left the bodies of their friends and co-workers in. When he finally caught up to the man he let the human think he had a chance in Hell. It was more fun this way.

“You bastard!” The Templar hollered at him through the wind and rain, “You son of a bitch! When Master Crawford hears about this…”

“I’ll pay dearly? With my life probably?” Jacob taunted with a laugh as he drew closer, the flickering lights around them barely giving the human the light he needed to see by. “I see one major flaw in your plan, Master Templar.”

Faster than the rain-blinded Rexford could hope to keep up with Jacob surged forward, knocking the knife from his hands and grinning a dark supernatural grin. He knew that even in the faint lights that flickered by them his prey could see his red eyes flickering and the shine of his fangs. “To die one must be alive in the first place and I have been dead for a while now.”

The man’s cries of fear were muffled when he covered the man’s mouth and buried his fangs deeply into his thin human skin. While his tainted blood wasn’t the sweetest the assassin had had, which disturbed him if he dared pause long enough to think about it, it hit the spot. He didn’t need to drain this one so he didn’t and when he had his fill he sliced the man’s throat open so wide his head could barely hold on, took the Templar’s cross from him and threw him from the train. Let the police and thus the Templars find him and know the kind of monster they had prowling their streets. Only their bravest would dare face him after this.

When and how Evie caught up to him he wasn’t sure but the device she picked up that his prey had dropped was interesting. “Not the way I would have done it and this is broken,” she complained though he had a feeling it had more to do with the blood splatter on him that even the rain couldn’t wash away, “But at least it’s a mission accomplished.”

“And we have a train!” Jacob reminded her cheerfully, “It’s not all that bad now is it?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Well then. Let’s go inform the Rooks of the good news.”

The train finished its loop and returned to where it had been to start with some ten minutes later just as the fight between the last of the Clippers and the Blighters began to die down. The rain had slowed considerably and the gaslights cut through what was left easily enough. All eyes turned on him and Jacob took the opportunity to switch his hood for his cap again as he addressed them. 

“Kaylock is dead!” He announced loudly enough for them all to hear, “Whitechapel is no longer in the hands of the Blighters!”

“You now have a chance to join our ranks,” Evie threw in, her voice nearly as authoritative as his, “We welcome all who would stand against Starrick and his cutthroats!”

As Jacob watched several Blighters who had been fighting his men moments ago looked around wearily as they stepped forward, some who wore rings on their fingers and an uncertain look in their eye. Jacob nodded to one of his men who said something that sounded like gibberish to the vampire’s ear and green coats, those not stained with blood, were tossed to the former Blighters who gladly surrendered their own colors to wear the green and yellow of the Rooks. 

When it was done and those who chose to stand with their own gang fled, Jacob leapt down from his position on top of the train and gestured to them with wide open arms. “Welcome to the Rooks,” he said cheerfully, glad that at least now he didn’t have to worry about Evie being out there all by herself if and when she took on more dangerous missions in the daylight. But there was another matter to tend to now too. Such as this lovely train and its conductor that were now theirs. 

Jacob signaled to Evie he was stepping inside the train and wasn’t surprised when she followed him though the fact that the conductor was an old grumbly Scottish woman was a bit unexpected. Although she seemed under the misapprehension that the man she had run the train under for the last ten minutes had been her old master. It was a mistake quickly rectified. Once it was explained she gladly offered her services. Now it was just a matter of setting up their new found hideaway and getting settled properly. Already Jacob had an idea how best to arrange his car so the burning light of day never touched him and he would be left mostly undisturbed in the daylight. 

Greenie arrived soon enough with some of their things once they got word back to him and immediately Jacob started setting up the car he had chosen to be his room. He only had a few hours until the sun rose. And that strange weapon they found? Well. Greenie probably knew someone. He always did.


	7. A New Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob meets with Mr. Bell about the grappling hook and get a new list of targets to take down.

Daylight came and with fire and fear. He politely but sternly asked Greenie not to disturb him until the sun had set that night or at the very earliest while it was setting. The questioning look he had gotten told him that his voice might not have been as steady as he thought it was or else there was something else about the way he said it that made the man suspicious. Yet he said nothing and as Jacob settled down to sleep away the day he was only somewhat worried about being disturbed. Not enough to stay awake all day. He was sure that Evie would find a way to drag the man away for something and there was no one else on the train to worry about. Eventually, after a few hours of assuring himself he fell into a restless sleep.

Evie’s solid knock woke him just past sunset and he startled awake just as she walked into his car with a piece of paper for him. She huffed when she saw just how dark the car was and immediately went about lighting the lamps, forcing him all the quicker out of his half asleep state. He couldn’t help but hiss at her for a second before he bridled the urge and brought it to heel. Her glare was more than enough to make him apologize. This time. Provided she didn’t do it again anytime soon.

“I made contact with an Alexander Graham Bell,” she said once the room was light enough though she didn’t look at him while she set the papers and something heavy on the desk nearby, “Intelligent if awkward man. He was glad to have the opportunity to work on the broken device for us. Was even able to replicate it so that we may each have one.”

Device? Oh that thing that Keylock had. “And what was it? What does it do?”

“It is something of a grappling hook I think. Something that will make it quicker and easier to climb up buildings and between them.” 

"For you maybe. Now you’ll be able to keep up if you ever join me on a hunt.”

Something about what he said made her pause but it only took a second for Jacob to remember the word now held a different meaning. Well, a double meaning now. “I will restrain myself from… indulging if you come with me you know. I won’t make you watch anything you don’t want to see.” Meaning anything that would remind her that now he was a monster even he looked and acted the same as always. 

“I have my own work to do, Jacob. I wasn’t aware you needed to be babysat through your assassinations.”

“Wow, what has your knickers in a twist today? Do I need to pay Mister Bell a visit for something he said to you?”

“No. Nothing like that. But the way the Templars are holding the borough of Lambeth is disturbing to say the least and the way to untangle them from the people is more complicated than I anticipated.”

Which meant that whatever means they kept control over the borough was something subtle and would take some time to untangle from the needs of the people. His claws weren’t going to be helpful with that until the mean in charge of it all could be eliminated without leaving a vacuum of power that they couldn’t hope to fill quickly enough. “Anything I can help with then? Some Blighters that need to meet their maker or maybe some information you need retrieved?”

“I might have something. A minor Templar that can be eliminated without stirring too much trouble and a small headquarters for the Blighters that needs to be cleared out.”

It was better than nothing but was easy work. He could give himself some personal minor goals to accomplish while out on these lesser tasks but otherwise he could do these in his sleep. Well, almost. “Alright. Leave the information on the desk. I’ll get to it after I change.”

“Some of the Rooks have taken one of the carriages on our train and turned it into a tavern of sorts.”

“It’s a good idea. Give ‘em a place to drink where we know where they are and where we can grab ‘em if we need ‘em for something.”

Evie looked like she wanted to protest and might have actually done so had Jacob not gotten out of his bed and begun gathering his clothes from where he had stashed them. Instead she kept her gaze focused on the corkboard of people and places on the wall across from where he slept so that he could change without her staring at him. He didn’t understand why she seemed to think he’d care if she saw his bare skin. He certainly didn’t care. The scars were nothing new and if anything he just looked a little paler than he had before. Okay maybe quite a bit paler. It wasn’t like he was in the habit of staring at his skin before he was turned into this… vampire.

He dressed quickly, not wanting to make this anymore awkward than he had to and kept the conversation light but not anything related to their work. When he was done he turned and went to grab the papers and device she had brought. Well the device he wouldn’t need to use but it would provide a good cover for how he could scale some of the buildings as quickly as he did. “I’ll get rid of these people for you tonight,” he told her, already memorizing their appearances based on the sketches attached to the little dossiers she brought, “And try not to leave too much of a mess in doing so. Anything else I need to handle tonight?”

“If possible I would suggest you check in with Mister Bell, earlier rather than later in the night. If he continues to create inventions for us he’ll need to keep in mind your sizes and skills for whatever he builds.”

“And I imagine the less he knows about what we’ll be doing with his inventions the better?”

“Precisely.”

Of course. Easier to control what the Templars could get out of the man if they captured him if he didn’t have much information about them to give. “I’ll pay the man a visit first then. Anything else? A token of your affection to give him or something?”

Finally she turned to look at him with a glare that he knew she meant to be threatening and it probably would be to anyone else. “Why would you assume that? Why is that ever a thought that enters your funny head?”

“Well since you’ve made no progress with Greenie and you mentioned this Mister Bell being awkward…”

“No. I have no interest in Mister Bell.”

“Alright then. If you insist.”

With the images of his targets memorized, he replaced the paperwork on the table and strapped the last of his equipment into place. With a wave over his shoulder to his sister he opened the door to the carriage and let the cool night air wash over him for just a moment before he climbed onto the roof of what was for now his home. 

The city that whipped by as the train chugged along was simultaneous unfamiliar and yet very familiar all at once. The air smelled cleaner, less like the filth of Whitechapel, but the scent of too many people packed too closely together still permeated the place even with the smoke from the various factories and hearth fires mixing in amongst them. He couldn’t see the stars through the layers of smoke and the clouds that floated by but what light there was available was more than enough to see by. He spotted a building coming up that was close enough to the track that he could reasonably leap onto it and braced himself to make the jump. Three. Two. One…

He landed hard and had to roll from the momentum of the speed of the train but other than some minor scrapes was unharmed. At least he didn’t lose his hat. Those were not easy to replace this late at night. “Alright then,” he said quietly to himself, taking in his surroundings, “First thing is first.” He needed to find a Mister Bell. If only he had thought to ask Evie the exact address the man was staying at. Damn it.

But he did have the device the man had apparently taken the time to make by hand and part of it was kept in a leather sleeve to hold it against the gauntlet. The metal wouldn’t hold any scents but the leather might. So Jacob, uncaring of odd it looked, lifted his gauntlet to his face and took a deep breath of the device that Evie had brought him, letting the vampire’s mind decipher the smells his inhuman senses could pick up. Evie’s scent was an easy one to decipher and the lingering smells of the city clung to everything. That must mean the other scent, one that smelled like it was mixed with oil and metal and something sharp (?) must be Mister Bell. Once he had the smell memorized turning his senses into the night to search for it felt almost natural. Almost.

He took off then into the night, sticking to the rooftops and moving as quickly and quietly as he could manage. He barely felt difference between running along these rooftops and the sidewalks and alleyways of the streets below. He wondered if it felt that way for Evie too or if those heels she had taken to wearing for some bizarre reason made the roofs all the harder to run along as they were often slanted and probably slippery with rain and God knew what else. 

His nose guided him swiftly to an apartment by the river though no so close that the stench of the Thames was overwhelming. The man himself was easy enough to spot in the windows of his home. Apparently he had never heard of curtains… or didn’t think it necessary to use them. For just a second Jacob considered slipping into the man’s apartment via a window and just waiting for him to notice but he was supposed to play nice with the man so he jumped down to ground level, adjusted his clothes for a second, and knocked politely on the man’s door.

He heard the sound of someone knocking into something and then a cry of pain and a curse. A tinkerer that got lost in his tasks? How utterly unique. Jacob almost rolled his eyes at the so very clichéd personality trait but stopped himself just in time for the man to all but throw open the door. “Ah, hello?” he said, his Scottish accent thicker than Jacob was expecting, “Who are you?”

“I am Jacob Frye. You met my sister earlier today. Helped her with this?” He showed the man the grappling hook and saw the suspicion in those eyes change to surprise. “She said I should pop by for a visit and introduce myself. A shame we couldn’t have met earlier. I tend to do most of my work at night.” Well, all of it, but he didn’t need to know that part. 

“Yes! I remember your sister. Please, come in. Have a seat. Have you had the opportunity to test your hook yet? I wasn’t sure if I made it strong enough to handle your weight. All I had to work with was a rough estimate based on your sister’s size.”

He hadn’t in fact, had time to test it but he had no doubt he would have an opportunity soon. Even if he didn’t use it to pull himself up a building being able to hang between buildings or use the wire to balance on while waiting for a target would certainly be helpful. “Not yet, Mister Bell, but I’m sure I’ll have the opportunity to do so tonight. I have a few errands to run tonight in fact after our little visit. I’m sure Evie will be by tomorrow to tell you the good news.”

“Please, Mister Frye, call me Aleck. All my friends call me such.”

Jacob smirked at the nickname and the way the man blinked at him as if in confusion for just a second before he looked away. Was he blushing? How strange. Men blushed when Evie smiled or grinned at them. They didn’t do it when he did so. Not usually anyway. 

“Aleck it is then. And please, call me Jacob.”

“Yes. Jacob. Easy enough to remember.”

“So tell me, Aleck, what are you working on now? I thought I heard you fiddling with something earlier.”

It was only once the words left his mouth that Jacob realized what he accidentally let slip but the man barely seemed to register them as his face lit up and he began talking about something that in all honesty Jacob wasn’t sure he could follow even if he was interested in whatever field the man was experimenting with. Something about using the cable wires currently being used to transmit Morse encoded communications to talk to one another? It sounded farfetched at best.

He let Aleck continue to talk for an hour or so about his invention before he brought up that he had errands to run again and promised he’d be back in touch when he next got the chance. He was only allowed to leave after he promised (again) to give the hook a try while out on his errands and saluted the man on his way out the door. Upon ducking out of sight of the apartment, he leapt up onto the nearest rooftop and took a moment to look back, surprised to see the man was still standing on his stoop, looking in the direction Jacob had gone with an odd expression on his face. If he suspected anything he didn’t seem horrified. If anything he looked curious. Interesting and more interesting. 

But there were more important matters to attend to. Like the Blighters that needed to meet their maker this night. The beast within was more than a little pleased with the thought of a semi-challenging hunt tonight. Or at least the prospect of multiple meals if he was careful enough. He wasn’t hungry but he was too awake, too full of energy, to have the patience to assassinate a single target quietly and carefully. Hopefully the gang would provide enough of a challenge that he could then focus on quietly eliminating the other Templar wherever it was he slept with his family so nearby. Maybe this time he’d just put down the man quietly in his sleep. Not that the bastard deserved the peace but the foolish woman who had married the man didn’t deserve to witness the bloody death the Templar so deserved.


	8. Death with a Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob wipes out another Blighter territory, fills his belly and eliminates a target but feels uncomfortable with just how much he enjoys slaughtering his targets.

The gang’s headquarters was not as empty as Jacob expected it to be with both the hour at night and the way the cold rain had started to fall since he arrived just outside the buildings they were using as their own. His hood kept the worst of the water from soaking his features and with the clouds and rain putting out the gaslights that weren’t well sealed even he had a little trouble seeing the men and women that were posted about the place. He contemplated for just a moment using throwing knives to take out the snipers he saw but decided against wasting them. If he was struggling to see, they wouldn’t see him coming, much less what he did to the others.

So he made the leap across buildings across the street, a jump Evie wouldn’t have been able to make even with a running start and chose the closest sniper to take out first. She was easy enough to sneak up behind and he barely felt the creak in her bones as he snapped her neck with ease. Her gun clattered a little as it fell but the rain falling as heavily as it was covered the sound. For a second he considered using it to shoot the other sniper within sight of this one but then decided against it. The noise would attract others and scatter those that didn’t have the gall to try and put up a fight. Instead he retreated to the rooftops again and made his way around to where she patrolled, watching carefully as she seemed to catch his movement but was unable to track exactly where he was. She too died quickly when he caught up to her, her neck snapping as easily as the first. He caught her gun before it fell, though, and propped it against the railing nearby. This was as good a vantage point to scout out the rest of the place anyway.

Twelve more souls wandered the place from what he could tell, most of them smaller, lighter fighters though there were a few men that could put up a decent enough fight if he let them. One was small and quick, a look out who would more than likely run to retrieve reinforcements if he let the little bastard slip. He’d have to be the next to go. Then maybe the bigger guys first. Or those that were using the buildings to stay out of the rain. Easier to hide their bodies from the others that way.

The look out approached the tower the sniper had been watching from and Jacob hopped up on the rail as he drew nearer, waiting for the perfect time to pounce on the poor man and drive his hidden blade deep into the man’s back and through his heart. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of disease in the blood that spilled but this one was far from the only source of a decent meal out tonight. In fact, in the building next to where he slaughtered the man there was one, maybe two more who would do. 

With the door to the building left open it was easy enough to slip inside though the wood floors made it tricky to make his way across the room to the first man who barely flinched when he covered the man’s mouth and ran him through with his already bloodied blade. This one Jacob lay down carefully lest the sound of his body dropping draw the other out before he was ready. Searching his pockets found a couple pounds but more than that he found a small silver pocket watch that nearly scalded his fingers when they brushed it. Fortunately it fell on cloth when he dropped it rather than the wooden floors but he still looked up to where the other man was still walking his patrol. After a second or two to make sure the second man wasn’t going to come down to check on his companion, Jacob snatched up the offending pocket watch with a handkerchief he carried with him and tucked it into his pocket to give to Evie later. He didn’t see an engraving on it. All the better.

Climbing the steps to take out the second man was harder than sneaking up on the first man. He barely made it to the top before the human’s eyes caught on him and he had barely a second before charging the big guy knocking him down, blade through the heart with all the inhuman force he could muster. Hm. Sloppy. That could have been timed better, now that he thought about it. Not much better but better. Evie could have taken the man out so much faster and likely much quieter. Likely with a knife or something. 

Three down. Nine more to go. And they were more scattered than these first three were. The rain that had started maybe fifteen minutes ago started to fall harder and lightning started flashing across the sky, thunder rumbling soon after. Wonderful. Still, as annoying as the weather could be it was useful at the moment and that was all he really ask for. With barely a thought the claws grew thick and sharp from his fingers and he used them to scale from the second floor of the building he was on up to the roof whereupon he searched for the remainder. There were two in the furthest building, one in the open field to the right, two more in the open field to the left with one that patrolled between the two, one in the next building and when he looked up he saw another pair of snipers in nearby windows though they appeared to be the only ones in their buildings. But where were the last two? There were always twelve men in these camps and he could have sworn he spotted them earlier.

He sighed and decided he didn’t have the time to immediately search for them. One of the snipers was nearest. He’d take them out first, then maybe the second sniper before focusing on the men in the last building and using that vantage point to take out the remaining men on the ground. He’d feed on the last amongst them, both as a reward for a job well done and to make sure he remembered to feed at least once tonight. The train was a great hiding place but it meant if he let the beast go hungry too long who knew when and where he’d escape to and who he’d sink his teeth into. 

He leapt from the roof top he was on to the one the sniper was camped out at, using the cover of the dark and stormy night to cover his presence to slip inside quickly before the lightning flashed. This time the sniper turned to move just as he got behind her and he didn’t have time to make her death smooth or quick. So he smirked, let her see his fangs and watched her eyes grow wide in terror. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he told her, “Nothing personal. You understand.” He saw her throat work as she gathered the air to try and scream but he slashed her throat open first and tossed watched her stumble over to the nearby wall, her eyes wide while she fought to breathe. She choked while he watched the other sniper, readying a throwing knife to take that one out quickly. The rain was starting to ease, or at least the thunder quieted down. He didn’t have the cover of it for too much longer.

The second sniper crumpled a moment or two after he threw the small blade with a look of surprise on her face. A quick look to the remaining men he had spotted earlier told him that they hadn’t noticed any of the deaths so far. Good. All the better for everyone. He waited until the one that patrolled between the two fields finished his trip from one to the other before making the climb to the roof of the building he was in. The one that lingered alone in the field was too far for a throwing blade but the one that the patroller was currently chatting with was close enough to be dealt with easily. It didn’t take long until the one patrolling turned to walk on his path back between the buildings and he let his throwing knife fly without watching where it landed while he pounced upon the one walking passed. The one he landed on didn’t stand a chance. A glance at the one he threw the knife at showed the man crumpled with the handle sticking out of his forehead. Good. He’d get that one back in a bit. Along with the knife he left in the sniper. 

Just one more(?) to deal with. This one he didn’t bother to sneak up on. The main tried to threaten him. Tried to talk tough. But he saw how the man struggled to do so when he moved just a little too fast closer and closer while meeting his red eyes. He said nothing as the Blighter raised his pistol, his hand shaking too much to really get a good aim with it. “What the fuck are you?!” The Blighter demanded as he fired the pistol he carried and missed by more than foot. Jacob almost laughed. Instead he let his fangs flash as he charged the man and threw him hard against the nearest empty building, holding the big man up by his neck. The rain wasn’t enough to wash away the stench of urine as the man wet himself. “You’ve made poor choices, my friend,” he said, “and now is the time to pay the price for them.” He sank his claws into the man’s neck, letting the blood flow over his fingers for a moment or two while his victim choked and gagged until he stopped fighting for breath. Once he fell limp, Jacob dropped him and replaced his claws with his lips, drinking in what blood was still left in him. It was sweet and rich and he almost purred at the taste of it. 

And only once the man was completely drained did he pull away. A sound of a gasp drew his eye and he saw the final two Blighters he hadn’t spotted earlier. Both men had their clothes rumpled, their hair a mess and their eyes were wide in horror and fear. Even if they ran they wouldn’t escape him. They had seen his bloodied face and inhuman claws. He couldn’t let them live, even if they decided to leave the Blighters because of this. He felt bad about this but it was better in the long run, for them and the war. 

Before either could recover their wit he charged them, hidden blade flashing on the left and his bloody claws open and sharp on the right. The first one didn’t get the chance to cry out before his throat was slashed and the second got the clawed hand buried deeply in his chest. The vampire in him was preening under the sadness in those eyes, the horror and utter despair there. But Jacob felt ill at the sight the sight of it. He was an assassin, had always enjoyed the physical side, but he had never wanted to literally hold a man’s heart in his hand as he was now and watching the last of their life flow from them as their blood stained his clothes.

But it was done now. The last of the Blighters in this headquarters were dead. After a quick trip to retrieve his throwing knives he took to the rooftops again, lifting his hands so the rain could wash the worst of the blood from his hands lest he leave a trail that could be followed once the storm stopped and the sun rose. It didn’t take long and he had only one more target tonight. And with his belly full of blood he was ready to use everything he had learned about his new talents to end the Templar in question. With a deep breath he decided on the quickest means to get to the home he needed to reach. He had maybe an hour or two left before he needed to catch the train lest he be caught in the sun and he really didn’t want to contemplate what he’d have to do to avoid that. 

The run to the Templar’s home was almost as peaceful as a stroll around the block might be to another and was obvious with the sheer number of Blighters “casually” hanging out around the place. The home itself was dark with everyone inside likely asleep. The sniper keeping watch over the place was easy to take out and there were plenty of windows to crack open and slip inside through as if he were a ghost rather than a tall and certainly not light man. The room he ended up slipping into was small and there was a crib in it where an infant slept soundly for once. It wasn’t something he didn’t anticipate but still reminded him that the war between their factions left many casualties that weren’t even aware of the conflict to begin with. 

The adults’ bedroom was easy enough to find. Parents never slept very far from their infant if the child was not in the room with them. He was silent as he slipped into their darkened room and watched them sleep for a moment. How exactly was he going to do this? A knife? A gun? No. Hidden blade to the man’s heart. He lay on his back while his wife slept turned away from him on her side. No evidence to clean up other than the man’s body in the morning and even then it might take the woman a moment or two to even realize her husband wasn’t breathing. 

Walking over to the man’s side of the bed was easy and the quiet sound of the blade sliding from its sheath would only wake the most paranoid of assassins. But something about his standing there (perhaps blocking what little light could fight its way through the curtains in their room?) woke the man anyway and before he could jolt or yell, Jacob met the man’s eyes and motioned for silence and to his wife. Even without words the Templar understood him and stayed quiet though he squared his jaw as if bracing himself. Hm. A Templar with balls. He hadn’t seen that since he had become this monster. Either the Templar had no idea what his red eyes meant or he knew and was putting on a brave face. Either way he got points in Jacob’s book for the effort.

“Take your payment, demon,” the Templar whispered quietly though Jacob’s sensitive hearing picked up on every word, “and let only me pay the price. My family had nothing to do with this.”

Oh and this one had a conscience even! Where was that when the Order beat men and women to death for not having the money they wanted ready or left the children orphaned by the secret war to starve on the street? Still it wasn’t going to be his problem for much longer. He’d pay for his crimes in this life in the next one wherever he ended up. 

Still he let the man think what he wanted and nodded his ascent to the man’s request which he seemed to take comfort in. For Jacob’s part he made the man’s death quick. A blade to the heart stopped it almost instantly and he used the handkerchief he carried for proof of assassinations to gather what blood stained his night clothes when the hidden blade retracted. He tucked the handkerchief away quickly and swept back through the home, moving as quietly as he had entering it and slipped back out the way he came in. Those Blighters watching the house never noticed a thing. Mission accomplished then. All that was left was to catch the train which was due to pass through soon. 

The track he was to meet the train at wasn’t overly far and with the storm fading quickly now he was in no real hurry to get to it. Compared to the day, from what he understood, the city felt downright empty and even with the rain there were more than enough voices talking loudly, laughing and flirting from the taverns reminded him that London wasn’t a city that ever truly slept. Not like Crawley had. Not that he’d ever see Crawley again. Not if the Brotherhood had any say in the matter. If he and Evie succeeded they might leave him alone to live in London as he saw fit. If not… well. He’d be lucky if he managed to never stain his blade with the blade of another assassin.

Jacob leapt down from the rooftops, trading his hood for his top hat as he strolled casually down the sidewalks, just letting himself enjoy the city for once. Lambeth didn’t carry the same stink that Whitechapel did. There weren’t so many poor and desperate in this part of the city. And although the Blighters that still remained watched him with suspicion they left him alone. Whether that was because his clothes looked nicer than they were expecting or because if he met their eyes his was were so unusual a color he wasn’t sure. How he wished he could weave through the people like he used to. There was no way he could blend into a crowd now even if he tried. The vampire was meant to draw the attention of its prey. Attention that would keep the human frozen in place while the vampire pounced upon them. Not that it was always a bad thing. Tonight was a prime example of how these inhuman talents could be used for the greater good. But the price of them was high. He wasn’t so sure he would have willingly paid it if he had had a choice in the matter.


	9. You Will Remember Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With nothing else for him to do, Evie sends Jacob out to gather some supplies they can use to keep their Rooks in line. Jacob gathers a small team with him... and can't help but show off a bit.

He didn’t get the chance to give Evie the pocket watch he had taken until that evening when she came to relay the news of what became of the Templars after his activities of the night before. She looked impressed even at what he managed to accomplish without leaving obvious evidence of what he was much less who he worked for. At least not obvious to someone not involved in the war. “I’d ask who you were and what you had done with Jacob but that might seem insensitive I think.” If she had said something like that any time closer to when he had been changed he would have taken offense. As it was he just smirked and settled back onto his lounge chair and let her wander about the small space. His clothes were still a little bloody despite his best efforts to clean them but it wasn’t as if anyone other than Evie was going to see them anytime soon. There was no need to hurry.

“So what’s the next step, dear sister? Another gang war to settle who owns Lambeth?”

“Now it’s my turn to handle matters, Jacob. I’ve got a few things on my end that need to be accomplished during the day before we can move matters forward.”

“Things that I can’t help you with?”

“Not really. Most of it needs to be done during the day. And remaining inconspicuous is our best bet for getting the information without bloodshed.”

“Okay then. And with my targets already dead is there anything in particular I should focus on tonight?”

She looked over the corkboard as if trying to decide something. He didn’t say anything though the fact she was taking so long didn’t exactly bode well he thought. It wasn’t as if he could go hunt other well-known Templar targets before they were ready. And if he did nothing tonight or at least didn’t feed he couldn’t be sure he’d have enough control of the hunger the next night to not sink his teeth into the first civilian he came across that was foolish enough to walk alone at night. If Evie could think of nothing specific maybe he’d just wander through Whitechapel and see what he could catch by merely looking too well dressed in the slums of the city. While not necessarily Templars thieves and would be murderers were better than innocents.

“We could always use more funds…” she said in the end, still staring at the map, “and I have word on several Templar shipments of supplies we could make use of in both Whitechapel and Lambeth. If you could procure these shipments we could use the money if not the actual equipment to keep your Rooks happy and well equipped to deal with the Blighters.”

It was better than nothing and the more dead Blighters the better. “Alright. You have exact locations? Or at least an idea of what the cargo is so I can figure out where they might be hiding it?”

The list she rattled off was easy enough to track down in the city and the way that they would likely use to transport these items would make stealing them just as easy. Provided the horse didn’t spook too easily with him. Perhaps he’d have to enlist some Rooks to come with him and send them ahead with the cargo. It would certainly allow him to take his time to drink his fill and leave a mangled mess that the poor soul who stumbled upon their bodies in the morning. He’d have to slit the throat of another to cover up for the lack of blood in the first but that was easy enough and it wasn’t like the cops in this town likely had the time or even the medical know how to really care about the specifics beyond the obvious cause of death anyway. Even if they did “vampire” was more likely to be laughed away as a myth rather than a genuinely considered viable theory. 

“Alright. I’ll take a look at what I can find in Whitechapel. I’ll even take some of the boys with me. Let them feel useful beyond just keeping an eye on Blighters.”

“Good idea but be careful. Clara’s orphans sometimes wander the streets at night and I’m not sure how they’d take seeing you bloody and fanged.”

And wasn’t that the truth. He sighed. Children were less likely to explain away what was before their eyes. They were just that bloody honest with themselves still. He’d just have to be extra careful to keep an ear and an eye out for the little ones.

“Fine. I’ll do what I can to avoid them. Anything else?”

Evie shook her head, seemingly lost in her thoughts, so Jacob got to his feet and tossed on his still somewhat bloody jacket and top hat, only realizing once he had them on that he still had the silver pocket watch in his pocket. In fact he had to stop himself from reaching for it. “Hey Evie, I have something for you. In the left pocket.”

She turned, surprised but unimpressed when he just stood there, arms away from his sides. “And you can’t pull it out of your pocket yourself because…”

“You’ll see. Left pocket.”

She rolled her eyes but stepped closer and reached into the pocket, pulling out the watch with little care about how the silver chain swung around. He had learned to ignore the stink of it but the way the chain moved forced him to hold still instead of flinch away from it. It was nowhere near bare skin but he didn’t want to risk it anyway. “Oh. Where did you get it?”

“One of the Blighters was carrying it. He didn’t have much use for it since he was dead. I figured you’d appreciate the time piece.” 

“And you gave no thought to who might have used the money this would have sold for?”

“He wore no ring so there was no wife waiting for him and if he still had his parents around they’re old enough to be settled nicely in their retirement.”

She brought it to the lamps to get a better look at the item, no doubt checking for engravings or something else that would make it easy to identify as stolen and found nothing. Then she opened the face and seemed to approve of the way it ticked quietly but precisely. “Thank you, Jacob, but try not to make a habit out of this. We are assassins. When we eliminate a target it is not for personal gain.”

“Of course not. But surely a small little trinket here and there never hurt anyone?”

“Just go. You sound like you have too much energy as it is.”

“You’re just lucky I don’t linger in pubs and taverns anymore. The city sounds full of them and there are so many ways to expend energy while drinking the night away.”

Her groan at the image he implied made him laugh as he slipped from his room into the next carriage over where some of the rooks were happily indulging in a few drinks of their own. The women seemed to holding their own pretty well against the men and even some of the younger guys seemed to be getting into the various card games and rounds of one-up some of the older gangsters participated in. Oh to be that innocent again. “Listen up, Rooks,” Jacob said cheerily, drawing their attention as easily as he had the day he had recruited most of them upon defeating Keylock, “I’ve got some information about some nice shipments the Blighters are planning on moving around tonight. Shipments that, quite honestly, we could be making better use of than they ever could. Anybody want to come with me to liberate this cargo from their fumbling hands?”

A few of the younger Rooks seemed eager though the veterans seemed more inclined to just continue drinking. The fact that some of them avoided looking him in the eyes didn’t escape his notice but if they were willing to walk with them loyally, that was a small thing to overlook to keep them around. After all they were not just his men (and women). Who knew? Maybe Evie would need some big tough guys for something eventually. It wasn’t like they could do every little thing themselves. 

“Those coming with me should gear up. The shipments we’re targeting will probably be guarded and even if we’ve got the better men we don’t want to leave too much to chance.” And draw the copper’s attention any more than necessary. Not that the police had anything much better to do in Whitechapel. They knew the score well enough to stay out of the way at least until the dust settled and the numbers leaned a little more easily in their favor. 

He guided the young men (though not much younger than himself and Evie if they were younger at all) to the armory they kept for the Rooks that came to the train and watched them carefully choose their firearms and hand weapons (though the latter was far less common than the former). “Make sure you know how to use the guns you pick, please. There won’t be time to teach you how to handle it properly on this little errand of ours tonight.” And he’d rather not lose men to incompetence on their part if he could help it.

“What kind of gun do you favor, Mister Frye?” one of the Rooks asked, his accent almost too thick to understand him. 

“If I’m going to use one I’d rather use one of these,” he replied, picking up a revolver that Evie favored as well, “But I’m better with knives than a pistol.” Less noise and more than that harder to trace if he made sure to retrieve them later. Bullets tended to get left behind and were more closely monitored by the authorities than throwing knives tended to be. 

The flash of confusion over the young man’s face was almost comical but not entirely unexpected. Not many outside of circus performers used them and even then it wasn’t commonly known. It wasn’t as if this one had seen what they could do up close and personal. Tonight, however, that might change if he paid enough attention. “Everybody knows how to drive a carriage right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Then when we get to Whitechapel we’ll head to the first target. It should be pretty easy but I will scout ahead to make sure. I’ll need some of you lads to get the cargo to the train when it comes around again. We’ll sort through the loot when we’re done and you boys will get first pick of what we get. Sounds plenty fair?”

There were some murmurs of ascent just as the train began to slow and even without looking out the window he knew they had arrived. Somehow even though they had barely gotten settled on the train and the train circled the city, it felt like a long time since he had breathed in the stench of it. Although he didn’t remember quite so much sickness lingering in the air the last time he was here. He felt twitchy, already wanting to leave and let the mortals succumb to their inevitable weakness, but he had a mission to accomplish here and he couldn’t afford to let the Rooks following him pick up on his sensitivity to it.

There were a few minor altercations before they reached the first shipment but nothing that was really bloody or even out of the ordinary for this particular borough. The sky remained clear and with the bright light of the full moon to his eyes it was as if the sun was shining again. The four Templars at this location were easy enough to spot as was the direction in which the carriage was facing. He motioned for his men to take up positions to block the carriage while he climbed up, letting them see him stand tall and proud on a nearby rooftop with a throwing knife in hand. He killed the driver first and called for the Rooks to attack. The fight didn’t last long and none of his men were hurt. Good. He picked two of his men and ordered them to take the cargo for the train. He told the rest to start heading to the next location. Might as well take a drink now. Maybe if he spaced it out and didn’t leave any one body completely bloodless it would easier to hide.

The one he chose this time was a woman who had taken quite the shot to chest. It was a shame, he thought as he picked her up, that she had to die. While not exactly dressed lady like she had found the strength to decide her own fate even if it hadn’t exactly ended in her favor. He held her close as he sank his teeth into her rapidly cooling neck and drank deeply what he could from her despite her heart no longer beating. Hm. He hadn’t noticed before that women’s blood had a hint of something that tasted like honey in it. Or was it just this woman? He’d have to drink from more of them to really find out.

When he was done he sliced her throat open, making sure to cut through where his fangs had bitten in to hide the marks, and jogged away from the bloody mess to follow his men to the next job. He almost wanted the next one to be a challenge. Something that actually made him stretch his talents a little more than the last one did. Not that he wanted his men in harm’s way. He just… okay he could admit it. He liked to show off and in front of his own gang members was the best time to do so. It wasn’t like he could impress Evie with his assassin skills anymore. If anything she’d just claim she could do whatever it was better. At least she used to. He wasn’t so sure she’d be as inclined to challenge him anymore. 

He caught up to his men not long after, their weapons ready and watching the Blighters gathered with grins on their faces, still giddy with their earlier success. This time Jacob didn’t bother with climbing to the nearest roof top but had his men block the way the carriage was going to try to escape through and exchanged his top hat for his deep hood. It looked more menacing he thought. Well that and the blood that still stained his clothes if they could see it. Then he went in, hands open, a grin on his face even as the Blighters turned to face him. “Alright, boys I’ll be generous tonight,” he said cheerfully, speaking loudly enough so all of them could hear him, “Just give us the supplies and you get to walk away, no harm, no foul.”

The bigger man, easily twice Jacob’s size came forward, laughing at his threats. Fantastic. Just the kind of asshole he liked taking down a peg or two. “Look at this little man thinking he can take us on all by hisself!” Jacob let the man come within arm’s reach before he punched his right hand clean through the man’s thick chest, his claws long and inhuman and wrapped around the man’s heart. He pulled his arm out again after he was sure the others got a good look at what he did. And _there_ was the fear.


	10. The Animal Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob is worried about his control slipping and some of his Rooks are starting to get suspicious.

It wasn’t until he had gotten back to the train and he looked his bloodied clothes over that Jacob realized exactly what he had done. He hadn’t drunk blood in front of his men but he had shown himself to be a monster and… damn it he had _enjoyed_ it. What was wrong with him? That he enjoyed ripping a man’s heart out tonight because it was showing off his skill and strength to the Rooks that followed him? That wasn’t what being an assassin was about. It wasn’t about blood and gore and even enjoying the killing. Killing was a means to an end, eliminating dangerous people who would terrorize those not involved in their war for their own profit and gain. These Blighters were gangsters, foot soldiers, nothing more. He didn’t need to butcher them as he had. The blood he had drained from four of them after his men had taken what they came for sat heavily in his stomach. He might have been sick if he was still capable of it.

He contemplated telling Evie of his troubles as he ensured the windows to his carriage were sealed against the sun that slowly creeping up on the horizon. She… she would need to know that his control was steadily slipping. Maybe… maybe if he did any more missions like that alone he’d be able to make them quick and clean with minimal conflict. Maybe he’d still hold onto himself and wouldn’t become the very monster that George had accused him of. He didn’t want to think what might happen to Evie if she did end up having to put him down herself like a mad dog. 

Jacob was so lost in his thoughts, staring at his now human looking hand, he didn’t notice the door to his carriage slipping open until he felt the burn of the sun reflected off the wall behind him and hissed, turning sharply in the direction of the door. It was closed quickly with a gasp of surprise and Jacob was glad he was able to keep his fangs from showing this time when it turned out to be a little girl. Who was this one? That one urchin contact Evie had mentioned? A Clara something?

“What do you want?” he snapped, turning away so hopefully she wouldn’t notice his eyes in their unnatural color. “I’ve had a long night, girl.”

“I was on my way to see Miss Evie,” she said, her voice shaking but somehow still proud, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m her brother, Jacob. Surely she’s mentioned me.”

“Yea, she has. Mentioned you were a pratt but I didn’t think you’d be this rude.”

“You’re the one who didn’t knock before walking into my room.”

The girl huffed and walked behind him so Jacob folded his arms over themselves to keep the worst of the blood hidden from young eyes that had likely seen worse. No need to make matters worse. “I’ll just take my leave then. I guess I’ll see around later Jacob.”

He didn’t answer her words and turned away from where the sun would reflect off the wall when she opened the door trying not to flinch away from the sensation of it. He was only able to relax once the door closed again and even then all he did was remove his gauntlet and set it aside. Their work was far from over. The Templars still held strong in the city. He needed to keep control. At least until all of this was done. If he could out that long. Maybe he’d even find the bastard that turned him that night and make killing him the last act of revenge he’d manage as Jacob Frye. He just had to hold onto himself long enough to make it happen.

With that decided he shed the bloodied jacket and tossed aside his boots, searching for his sleeping clothes. Not that he needed something to keep him warm in the night. He couldn’t exactly feel cold anymore. Or warmth other than the burning of the sun. But the cloth would hopefully mitigate the burning of the sun if that girl came through again while he was trying to sleeping. Not much but just enough to avoid a gaping wound. Hopefully. Probably. Ugh he really wasn’t looking forward to ever seeing if the theory would work. 

It took a while before he was able to settle in well enough to sleep and when he awoke it was to the sound of hushed whispering nearby, whispering in voices that sounded vaguely familiar. “Is… is he dead?” one asked quietly to another, “I don’t see an injury but he’s not breathing!”

“Careful! I saw him rip a man’s heart out of his chest last night with his bare hand!”

He opened his eyes as he heard someone shuffle closer and saw one of the younger Rooks with a young recruit, both staring with wide horrified eyes. What time was it? Surely the sun was gone as he would have noticed the feeling of burning against his skin. Usually only Evie checked in on him at night. “What is it?” he asked the pair, slowly sitting up in his bed to avoid startling them more. He really should learn to lock the doors to his carriage, if he could. Why didn’t he try to do that this morning?

“Th-the goods recovered last night were distributed and the money for what we couldn’t find a use for went to Miss Frye,” the older one managed to say with only a slight stutter, “It was a pretty good haul so we were wondering if you needed anybody to go with you to… um… recover some more… tonight.” The older nudged the younger who kept staring. It was a little disconcerting honestly. 

“I’ll talk to Evie about it in a bit. She’s the one that scouts out the places for me in the daylight, makes sure the shipments we’re after are indeed where it’s said they’ll be.”

“Alright. Well, let us know if you need anybody for tonight. After last night I think you’ll get a few more volunteers this time.”

“We’ll see.”

The older Rook took the younger by the shoulders and all but manhandled him out of the carriage and into the next one where the other rooks were no doubt already gathering for a night of jollies and drinking. Not five minutes later, while he was finishing up getting fresh clothes laying right, Evie stepped in with an unhappy look on his face. “I thought you said you were going to be discrete.”

“I am.”

“You call this mess discrete?” She tossed a newspaper onto his desk and Jacob cringed when he saw the headline. A man with a hole through his chest and his heart missing was unusual enough to catch some attention. 

“There is no evidence that links that to us.”

“Except the Rooks who saw you. Rooks who could and would gladly turn you in to the police if we don’t keep them happy enough with payment and revenge.”

“They’re loyal men, Evie. We wouldn’t be keeping a bar for them on our very train if we didn’t trust they at least had our backs when we need it.”

“And how quickly will they turn when they realize the man they thought they were following turned out to be something other than human? The only reason I have stayed my blade Jacob is that you are still my brother and you showed me that you still had control over yourself. This? This is not something the Jacob I know would have done.”

“I know!” he snarled, throwing a stack of books kept on the corner of his desk to the ground without really caring what they were or even remembering why he had put them there originally. “I… I don’t remember why I thought it was such a good idea at the time. I wanted to make the others afraid and that one man was the one who decided to step up and try to show off for them. He was so close and it just felt like the next logical step.”

“Ripping a man’s heart from his chest then crushing it like something from a horror novel? That seemed logical to you?”

“You have no idea, sister, of the kind of monster I have to keep at bay at night. No concept even of how hard it is to not sink my teeth into every single Blighter I cut open. They’re barely people anymore, Evie. It’s a struggle to remember that they are a means to an end, not just food.”

The hard eyes she had walked in with softened if only a little and it was only then that Jacob even noticed his claws had slipped out and his hands were shaking slightly. “I thought the city would make it easier to blend in. That with so many Templars I could manage to keep things under control and focused. But it’s like I’m a starving man walking through a buffet every night and am only allowed to one plate of the whole feast. I’m worried that the more I feed on them…”

“The less human you’ll be.”

Jacob sat heavily on his bed, leaning forward to rest his face in his hands, careful to keep the claws from digging into his skin. “I have to figure this out Evie. There’s too much at stake.”

Even without looking at her, he could feel his sister's contemplative stare. He was fast but he couldn't exactly afford to leave town most nights for something so simple as to feed and if he fed on animals instead of people (a thought he could feel the vampire recoil at) there would still be bodies that would have to be explained away, especially given the sheer number of bodies. He had tried that path before, back when he was on his own. It had barely worked then. He doubted, with so many humans around, that it would work now.

But if that's what they needed to do he'd do it. He'd force cold blood down his throat despite it tasting like rotten flesh. He shuddered at the thought, already feeling his stomach churn unhappily, but if that's what it took to get the job done he'd do it. For Evie. For dad. George could go fuck the Hell right off though. The arsehole.

Together they thought in silence for a long time before Jacob gave up on it, believing that if something were to come up Evie would figure out the solution to it. "Anything for me tonight? Apparently, the haul last night was impressive enough the boys are eager to go out for another bout tonight." She sighed but nodded. At least it was something to do rather than sit here and let his thoughts batter around.


	11. A Challenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While doing recon for one of Evie's missions at night, Jacob comes across a girl running for her life from a big hulk of a man. He thinks nothing of taking this man on... until the man proves better prepared for fighting vampires than Jacob was expecting.

Jacob spent the night that night doing nothing but reconnaissance on the man that Evie was currently hunting, a doctor of the head that was spreading an addictive and ultimately poisonous concoction in the streets to the common folk thus forcing them to become dependent on the Order and their potions. It was challenging at least considering the man stayed primarily in the asylum's private rooms on the highest floors. The whole place stank of a sickness it seemed only the vampire could detect. It was not sour or rotten but rather like something was wrong or off. Like meat that wasn't quite rotten yet but was starting to turn. And that was not including the smell of rotten meat from what he assumed was the morgue beneath the actually inhabited floors of the asylum. 

He had thought about infiltrating the place but couldn't spot a way to do so that wouldn't draw attention. There were guards with clearly no qualms about beating any one they saw outside their rooms and these guards walked such tight patrols he could see no easy way, even with his inhuman talents, to get passed them and up the stairs to the man's room to watch over him there. Evie would have to try to investigate what she could in the sunlight as he was sure the whole place, when alive and full of the movement of the day, was a totally different pattern that may or may not be easier to slip into. 

But what he could do for her now was get an idea of what rooms would be easiest to slip into and how best to approach them. He kept close to the building's walls and away from the windows, moving only when he could hear no guards within hearing range. He found empty rooms that could be used, windows with loose locks and even listened to those that chatted while on patrol to hear if one of them was prone to leaving his keys at home or losing them. It didn't take too long though it was exhausting work clinging to the building as he had to. Well, that and avoiding the guards that patrolled he grounds as well with their hounds. It was a miracle the dogs hadn't picked up his scent but perhaps with this much sickness and rot they simply thought he was just one more dead body about the place.

Speaking of which... could that work? The morgue? For him maybe. If he could get inside fairly easily and find a gurney to use. He was already too still when he slept and cold enough. He'd just be unable to escape after the assassination if it happened while the sun was still in the sky. Or rather, he could try but his skin would burn upon setting foot outside the place. Maybe Evie knew if the man was giving an evening or even a night lecture sometime to some students or something. Provided of course she didn't want to end the man herself. It wasn't fair if he was the only one who got to do the killing.

Idea in mind and the best entry points memorized, he climbed down from the asylum's walls and slipped across the yard without drawing the attention of the guards or the dogs, setting foot into the streets of Lambeth and trading his hood for his top hat (and thus seeming like a normal pedestrian) and blending into the crowds once more. The mess he had caused in Whitechapel seemed to set the Blighter's here on alert, he noticed, as he walked passed a couple of them who seemed ready to pick a fight over nothing. He might have taken them on if there weren't so many people around. Whether he ended up killing them or not wouldn't matter if anyone ended up being able to describe him well enough to the authorities or worse, someone pretending to be a member of the police force and wearing that damned red cross. It wasn't like they didn't know by now there were Assassins amongst them but the entire reason they wore the hood was to keep their faces and thus their identities hidden. 

Instead he kept going, despite their vague threats in his direction, using the dark back alleys and side streets and even the occasional hideaway to elude them for a while before continuing on his way. What few Rooks he saw were not men and women he recognized so, he figured, were probably unaware of who he was and his mission against their enemies. They were unlikely to help him unless he got into a fight right in front of them. That was fine for now. He and Evie nearly had all they needed to take back this district finally and once that was done the good doctor would meet his Maker too.

It wasn't until he came across the sounds of a woman screaming and her panicked running that he slowed down long enough to pay attention. She had her skirts hiked up, likely so she wouldn't trip on them, and although she was dressed her clothes were torn and loose. There was some blood on her skin and he could even make out an imprint of a blade against her skin when she got close enough. He didn't let the girl run passed him though. He reached out and gently caught her, pulling her aside even as he heard the heavy footsteps of someone big following behind. "Let me go!" She hissed, "He's going to kill me and you too if he thinks you helped me!"

Jacob almost snorted but instead met her eyes. "I'd like to see him try," and motioned for her to a nearby hideaway where he waited until she hid before he stepped out to meet the man. He didn't let the hidden blade slip from its place but he did roll his neck and crack his knuckles. In this light he clearly saw the look of bored confusion on the man's face. "Out for an evening stroll, are we?"

"Where is she? Where is the demon?"

A demon? She smelled like a normal human to him. Oh, but she had red hair! Really? He was one of those types? Jacob was surprised there were still people around who believed that sort of thing.

"Demon? I've seen no demon tonight, sir."

The big man sighed and raised his blade, somewhere between a butcher's cleaver and a sharp looking kitchen knife as if to threaten from where he stood. The blade was steel and while it certainly might hurt to get stabbed with it, Jacob wasn't too concerned. If anything, he felt a sense of giddiness at this fool's idea to threaten him. Good. He had some teeth, even if they weren't very sharp. "Do not toy with me, boy. She is not of this world and I intend to send her where she and the rest of her kind belong."

He grinned at the man. His gums itched but he didn't let the fangs slip out. "Who said I am toying with you? Maybe where you see a demon I see a girl running from her life from a monster."

The big figure shifted to throw the knife and Jacob didn't move until the blade was released, moving just enough to keep the sharp edge from catching his skin while he grabbed the thing by the handle. He thought that alone would be enough to impress the man into backing off but a second later there was a pistol raised and fired. Too late Jacob realized the blade was used to reflect the light better and thus make him a more obvious target. All the layers he wore slowed the bullet down but not enough to keep it from punching into his body. It didn’t go through, that much he could tell, but the force of it did make Jacob stumble back. He dropped the blade and reached up to touch where he felt the impact. There was not much blood but there was definitely a hole there and if he was alive it likely would have torn into something he still needed. Like a lung. Humans still breathed after all. 

“Ow!” he snapped and lifted his gaze at the man who this time seemed surprised. Finally. Something other than mild disinterest. Jacob wished he had a pistol to fire a shot back but purposely left the thing on the train as he had not planned to confront anybody tonight. The wound hurt but there was no silver in the bullet from what he could tell. No poison a stray thought added and suddenly there was an anger building in him. That someone, something as low as a human, would dare. “That hurt.” He was half tempted to dig into his own body and remove the offending projectile right away but decided to hold off until later.

The pistol fired again. Another bullet struck him, this time striking at least one bone as it passed through. He cried out and jerked at the impact, feeling his fangs slide low and into place. His whole attention focused on the man with the pistol now, uncaring what kind of attention those shots might have brought. He had promised Evie he would not leave any suspicious corpses around the place. He said nothing about leaving anyone utterly unharmed tonight. His claws grew and he saw the moment the man realized the man he kept shooting wasn’t going to go down. But there was only a little fear in those features. He looked more determined than anything. 

“Come at me then, creature,” the man snapped, tossing his pistol aside and drawing what looked like a short sword that even from this distance stunk of silver and something… something he wasn’t used to smelling that still made his nose wrinkle. “And meet the man sworn to destroy you and your Devil’s spawned kin.”

He bent low enough to pick up the blade the man had originally thrown at him before he charged ahead, using the cover of darkness to his advantage and dodge around the hulking figure as it swung the silver blade in his general direction. The man’s blade cut through his clothes easily but Jacob had trouble putting more strength behind his swings to get the blade to cut deep enough to make him bleed. He had to move too quickly to stay ahead of the blade and in the confined space of the alleyway he didn’t have much clearance to simply dodge. He caught the thing once or twice, using more of his strength that he wanted to admit to in order to keep it held back while his free clawed hand swiped at the thick, hulking body. He was more successful with them than he was with the blade at least.

Eventually he was able to lure the man to attack him in an open space between several apartment buildings, giving himself more space to work with. His hat had been lost somewhere in the alleyway during the scuffle but he doubted in this light any humans who saw him could reliably describe him. The man, on the other hand, was rather plain looking if big. He kept his blade close, his expression more confident than it was before. He thought he had this did he? Foolish mortal. He had no idea what he faced.

“A challenge,” Jacob heard himself taunting although those words sounded distant even to him, “I must say, you’re the first human to actually give me something to work with. And I was beginning the beginning to think London was full of sheep.”

“Big talk coming from a beast that has yet to do more than scratch at me.”

This time he did not charge the man but leapt up as high as he could, using the buildings around him to climb high above the man and used his superior speed to confuse him before diving down in the darkness, claws and even the hidden blade out and ready. He was too fast for the man to be entirely prepared but not fast enough to catch him entirely unaware. He felt the silver blade cut into the hand that bore the hidden blade, but buried the claws of the other hand deep into the man’s shoulder as he landed on him, knocking him to the ground hard. He was too busy wrenching the silver blade from the man’s hand and tearing the man’s collar bone and major arteries out of place to notice how deeply it cut into his palm . It wouldn’t be enough to kill him instantly, he knew that much, but there was plenty of blood splatter and he took the opportunity to let the human watch as he lapped up the blood that soaked his hand. “Not bad for a crusader,” he said and held his human victim down and he drank more deeply directly from the wound and thus the source of the deliciously sweet taste. 

It wasn’t until he felt the first trickles of the sun’s threat to rise soon that he pulled away from the body, wiped his hands and face on the man’s clothes and gathered his hat. His hand burned as if he had stuck it in a fire but it was secondary to getting back to the train, quickly, before the sun started to peek over the horizon and the minor burn became the least of his worries. He scaled up the nearest building, needing a quick and hopefully straight forward path to the train which (hopefully) wouldn’t be running late tonight. This morning? He no longer cared about the distinction.

The people with the earliest morning jobs were beginning to stir and get ready for their day. He didn’t care if they saw something suspicious out of the corner of their eye. The fire was coming. He couldn’t bother to care about his own secret when his unlife was on the line! He reached the tracks just in time and caught the train as it chugged passed, quickly slipping into his carriage and firmly closing the door behind himself. The darkness was comforting, especially since the sky had started to lighten by the time he reached it. He was safe in here. Protected. He could afford to calm down now and take a proper look at his wounds. 

Carefully he shed his outer most layers, setting the gauntlet on his desk then hanging up the heavy jacket on the rack with his hat. He wrinkled his nose against the holes in it but there was nothing to be really be done about it except perhaps to mend it if and when he had the time. What was more important were the bullets that were still in his not-quite dead body and the open wound in his hand. A wound that, when he looked at it, felt infected and looked sicker than anything he had seen before. And he had drunk a very large, very meaty human dry last night to compensate. Shit.

He was focused on his hand he didn’t hear the compartment door open until he sunlight brushed the wall beside him and he instinctively leapt forward, away from it though managed to hold back the hiss this time. Evie was too busy talking she didn’t notice her mistake until she had already closed the door and saw the betrayed look in his face. “Sorry. I’ve just… wait. Jacob. Are those… did you get shot in the night?!”

What a stupid question. “No, they’re just decoration. Of course I’ve gotten shot Evie! I’m not about to needlessly put holes in myself.”

She reached out before he could stop her (not that he was really inclined to do so) and traced the hole in his shirt and skin underneath it with morbid fascination. “Do they hurt?”

“Yes, but not as much as my hand does. Do you still have the bandage kit? Human or not I think I still need to get those bullets out of me before I can let these injuries heal.” It was not like an infection from the bullets themselves would kill him. He wasn’t so sure about the silver (and whatever else that smell was on it) in his hand though. She nodded and left to retrieve the box they carried with the supplies and Jacob let himself hope such mundane equipment would be enough to fix them.


	12. Silver Lining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob wakes up to find himself riddled with silver sickness... and it looks a lot like what their father suffered from before he passed. Evie goes out to find a cure but someone else has been watching him and that someone else is not so inclined to see Jacob die just yet.

As it turned out, the normal human treatments, beyond removing the bullets from his skin were not enough. When he awoke that evening, it was to the feeling of being overheated as if he was suffering from a fever. He felt at once weak and more powerful than ever. He tried to sit up and managed but couldn’t quite get himself to stand up. He reached for a nearby mirror, one made of several layers of thick glass so he could actually see himself that Evie so thoughtfully left behind after she bid him good day that morning, and stared at his own face. If he thought he looked dead before…

White skin that already looked sickly pale was over layered with dark lines in his veins that he could almost feel throbbing and eyes that were usually red looked like they were almost glowing. He couldn’t retract the fangs that sat extended in his mouth and his claws were long and sharp. His hair was a mess and the darkness of his tattoo seemed at the more sharply contrasted with the dark lines of his veins so near it as they traveled from his infected wound upward. He couldn’t have looked human if he tried. Or less like himself. He felt a tickle in his throat and coughed. Black blood stained his hand when he pulled it away.

He started at the sound of a knock on the door to his carriage and for a second he panicked until he remembered that that particular door only led to Evie’s rooms. He took a deep breath and was half tempted to put on a shirt but decided against it. She’d just demand he take it off again when she saw his face. “Come in,” he called after a moment, realizing she was actually waiting for his permission this time. Odd but appreciated this time. Maybe she finally felt bad for the time she nearly burned him.   
He was already up and lighting the lamps in the space when she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. He really wasn’t sure how she’d react when she saw him. She already disliked the reminders of his not quite human nature now. With it so blatant… he wasn’t sure he could handle seeing the disgust or even disapproval in his twin’s eyes. Not with this feverish feeling already wreaking havoc on him.

“Are you feeling any better?” she asked more softly than usual, “Human or not those bullets did quite a bit of damage.”

He sighed and fiddled with the paper on his desk directly under his undamaged hand. “They aren’t bothering me, Evie, but…” he turned slightly to meet her face and as he expected she looked horrified, “…the blade... the blade was silver I think. And there was something else on it. Something… foreign smelling.”

He turned to face her fully and offered his damaged hand. It had looked nasty this morning when she had seen it but now it looked like the mark of death itself. If he were human it would have smelled rotten and likely would have oozed something utterly disgusting. But his dead body couldn’t get infections. At least, he thought they couldn’t. But this wasn’t an infection. Not like anything he had ever endured before or seen in others. Not since… 

But... No. It wasn’t possible. Father hadn’t been a vampire. He was human when he died and had always been human. He knew it. He smelled father’s humanity on him when he passed. Yet the way this “infection” was spreading, leaving its black mark on him, it looked like what had taken father in those final moments, when he was at his weakest and struggling for breath. The lungs that didn’t need to work inhaled sharply as he remembered and that in turn just made him cough. More black blood stained the hand that came up to catch it. 

Jacob almost didn’t feel Evie as she guided him to his bed although the vampire within wouldn’t let him ignore her presence even if he wanted to. He was wounded, sick, and while this human didn’t smell overly strongly of silver she was a lesser creature and was therefore unworthy of seeing this weakness. He shoved that voice away as hard as he could. If anyone could help him, it would be Evie. And if she couldn’t… well. She would make sure he didn’t end up like father or a threat to an innocent outside the confines of their war. 

“-you hear me?!”

He flinched at her near shout in his face but refocused his attention on her. “Yes. You don’t have to shout.” He could almost feel how his words slurred. The room felt like it was coming in and out of focus. His chest ached but he couldn’t pinpoint where the pain was coming from. “What is it?”

“You’re going to stay here tonight. Rest if you can. I’ll see what I can find out about silver poisoning in vampires. Not that there will be much information I think but I’ll try to track down what there is out there. I’ll see about finding you a fresh source of blood while I’m out too. Maybe something that isn’t laced with god-knows-what kind of diseases they might have carried.”

The thought of fresh blood both made his stomach churn and his mouth water. He didn’t care enough to consider what was going to happen to the body of whatever he was brought after he drained it. “I’m not sure it will help with this but at the very least it means I won’t have to go out as I am.” He tried to flex his damaged hand. It barely twitched at his will. Damn it. One more thing to worry about. As if he didn’t have enough to concern himself with right now. “Just… be careful Evie. The man was a professional. I don’t know if he has connections but if he does they’ll likely know he’s dead and that I’m hurt.”

She looked determined as she got up, her mind already a million miles away. “Of course they would,” she said absently, “but it is a network filled with information we can use to our advantage if I can find it.” She left before he could tell her to be careful again and tried to settle back into his bed to try to get some sleep. He had plenty of books lying around, some of them he hadn’t picked up himself much less read yet. And it wasn’t as if Evie was going to catch him this time if he did pick up one of her novels. Romance may not be his usual genre but it was something to be drawn into. Better than thinking about his predicament.

He had just found a novel he hadn’t read yet but thought looked interesting when the lamps he had lit about his room were suddenly snuffed out by a breeze he knew wasn’t in the room before. He turned sharply, his hands raised as if to both strike at and defend himself against whatever was there. Then there were hands on him, hands that held him tightly against the body behind him that was just as cold as his own. His every instinct was telling him that the man was just like him. A man who wasn’t quite as human as he might have appeared. 

“Barely begun in London and already you’re a mess,” the man said, his words casual but his tone making the hairs on Jacob’s neck stand on end, “and I here I thought you had potential.”

“Not my fault,” he replied, trying to subtly test the strength in the man’s arms and finding that they were like steel beams holding him in firmly in place, “Didn’t expect to find a man who knew what he was doing when it came to dealing with men like us.”

The man sighed like a disappointed parent. “Did you really think our kind would have been driven into the shadows if there weren’t those that could kill us?”

“Sometimes walking in the shadow is less about hiding and about keeping one’s advantages to themselves. It’s harder to find the weakness of something you’re not even really sure exists.” Hence the Brotherhood to this day still walked in the shadows. At least from what he understood of it.

The arms that held him in place let him go and he would have turned to face the man if he were able. But something he couldn’t explain kept him in place. Some kind of instinct he didn’t understand completely. It wasn’t fear but a need to obey an unspoken order yet there was only a vague idea of the possible consequences should he not comply with it. It was strange to experience and if wasn’t trying to learn as much about the man currently in his carriage, the only other vampire he had ever met, he might have studied the instinct further. 

Instead he saw a hand he did not recognize set a tin and a phial on his desk. The hand was hidden beneath a black leather glove which tucked perfectly into a dark jacket that looked… wool? Something expensive he could tell that much. Whoever this man was he was someone of wealth. “These will help with the silver poisoning. We can’t have you die before the grand finale now can we?”  
Grand finale? “Who are you? What do you want with me?” 

The man huffed and Jacob could feel him take a step back. Then there was the gentle brush of leather fingers running up the length of his bare back. He shivered at the touch. Could have sworn he felt an intense gaze trace the same line the fingers made along his spine. He wished he could move, turn to face the man in question and demand his answers. Instead he stood still, eyes focused on the map of London and the list his known targets surrounding it. Evie had taken the picture of the latest one, the doctor, with her in the morning. 

“You’ll learn what you need to know in time, child. In the meantime drink the entire phial and use the ointment on the wound. The rest of it will fade in time.”

Before he could say anything else there was a breeze again and suddenly he could move as easily as before. He rushed to the far end of the carriage, the one on Evie’s side, and slipped out to try to see the retreating presence in the moonlight. He could see nothing, meaning that whoever it was had jumped off the train and down into the streets of London, likely blending into the crowd. His heart thumped slowly, almost painfully in his chest and as he slipped back into his rooms he fell into a coughing fit that felt as if he was actually trying to cough up a lung. When it passed he felt tired and weak despite having only awoken maybe an hour prior. Ugh. He’d take the medicine and apply some of the ointment like the other had said to do. Then he’d try to make sense of any of this after a nap.

The phial’s contents, when he smelled them, at first smelled like nothing. It was only once he took it that he could taste the metal in it. It wasn’t quite the tang of copper but something similar. He set the phial aside, and then opened the ointment jar carefully, glad that this at least smelled of mint or something minty enough that humans would recognize it as medicinal. What it would do for the wound he had no idea but at this point he really didn’t care. Maybe he’d look into later. It was tricky to slather the stuff on with his claws sharp and long but he managed somehow without making the wound worse. He could feel it working already. Some of that feverish feeling was fading. Maybe after some rest he’d feel well enough and Evie would be back. 

This time he extinguished one of his lamps himself and dimmed the other in case she returned while it was still dark. Usually he had no need for a blanket but this time made sure to cover up and lie so that the worst of the dark marks were hidden from sight. It didn’t take long for sleep to take him.

He twitched awake to the sound of heeled boots landing on the roof of his carriage then a few moments later landing on the metal ledge on Evie’s side of his. He sat up just as she slipped inside, feeling a little groggy but not nearly as sick as before. His senses sharpened though at the smell of that foreign substance on her clothes. The one he couldn’t identify that had covered that silver blade. “Where did you go? What did you find?”

“Honestly, not much. What I did find, though, was not what I expected.”

“Tell me.” He folded his legs so she could sit next to him and patted the space. She looked surprised. He didn’t remember why until he saw that the dark lines that had stood out so sharply against his pale skin looked like they had faded. “I have some news as well. Clearly.”

“You tell me first.”

And he did as soon as she sat, recounting in as much detail as he could remember and leaving everything, including the odd touch and the intense look, in his retelling. Evie looked both disturbed and intrigued by the end of it. She was always the scholarly type. Perhaps she would take notes to send back to George and the council. Something they could use to keep an eye on him and his “type” should another happen to be Changed eventually. 

“Do you know what was in the phial? Or the ointment?”

Jacob stared at her like she was the dense one between the two of them. “Do I look like an alchemist to you? I have no idea. Both the phial and the ointment are on my desk. You’re welcome to take a look at them though I don’t know how much more of the ointment I’ll need to treat it completely. I didn’t exactly read the instructions on the tin before I took my little nap.”

“You slept?”

“I’m sick, Evie! What do normal people do when they’re sick? They sleep!”

“Right,” she said softly though as though she was still confused. “They do. And they eat soup.”

“I’m not so sure I can do that anymore.”

“I know. So brought the closest I could find to it. I think. At least it should be for… someone like you.”

She searched in her bag and produced what looked like a canteen that even from here smelled of chickens and something rich. It was strange. The vampire found it plain and even bland but he found some comfort in it. Almost as if she had made him chicken soup. “Thanks,” he said sincerely and set it aside. He’d drink it later when she had gone to bed. Better she not see his lips and teeth bloody even if they were still human shaped. “I’m sure I’ll feel better for tomorrow night.” At least, he hoped so.


	13. One Step Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob assassinates the head of the asylum like he's supposed to but can't shake the feeling of being watched...

The dark lines in his face were gone by the time he awoke the next evening and he was itching to leave the carriage already by the time the sun was completely hidden behind the horizon. As useful as the hidden blade usually was even if he didn’t plan on engaging in a fight he now knew he had to have something else to rely on just in case it came to that. The hunter likely had friends. How many he had no idea. Evie hadn’t been able to find that information while out the night before or even when she awoke from her own well-earned rest. So this time he made sure he had a sword cane with him when he donned his layers. At least it suited the nice jacket and top hat look he was starting to cultivate.

This time he was the one to slip into Evie’s carriage when he was ready to go. The doctor still hadn’t been eliminated. There hadn’t been an opportunity yet that Evie had been able to take advantage of. But one was coming up soon. He was sure there was. She wouldn’t have that serious look on her face if she didn’t have a complicated plan that had to be executed just so for it to work. “You’ve got an idea to remove the good doctor from his place in the asylum I take it,” he said cheekily and leaned against the door, “anything I can help with?”

“Perhaps. You actually might be better at this that I might be.”

“Eliminating targets? I don’t know. We both have our strengths. Yours tends to be those knives of yours. And being able to take them out in daylight.”

She didn’t even twitch at his comment so he let his smirk slide from his face. If she wanted him to take this seriously he could do that. “What are you thinking?”

“Doctor Elliotson has a seminar coming up where he plans on demonstrating the effects of his medicine. I don’t think I could play a convincing enough corpse to be able to get in without being suspicious.”

“When is the seminar? What time?” 

“It’s scheduled to start in an hour from now. If you get there quickly enough you should be able to slip in before the evening shift change.”

Hm. He remembered a few places out of the way where the guards, even at night, didn’t pass very often. And with the asylum patients still awake and guest students present perhaps they would be distracted enough he wouldn’t have to kill any of them. It would mean he’d have to tuck away the cane somewhere until after he accomplished his mission. Either way he’d have to get going.

“Alright. I have a plan. When I eliminate him, however, it will draw quite a bit of attention.” He wasn’t like Keylock, a gang leader in the slums. The head doctor of the asylum (ha!) was someone people would notice if he went missing let alone in such a spectacular way. “What little discretion we have will be thrown out the window with this.”

“That is the idea. It will set the supply lines moving and the highest ranking of them will either slip into the woodwork or rally the soldiers into standing ready. Either way we’ll know who we’re after.”

Interesting strategy. With only three of them he wasn’t sure how it was going to work, especially with that other vampire, clearly a Templar or else working with them, well aware of where and what he was. He’d just have to make sure that if he ever did encounter the vampire again he’d fight that strange instinct thing with all he had, regardless of the consequences. If he struggled against it he didn’t want to imagine what might happen to Evie if she should ever encounter the man. He’d take whatever the consequences were if only to ensure she stayed well away from the other man.

“If you’re sure. But I have to get going. I’ll see you back here after it’s done or in a pub?”

“This time we’ll meet at a pub. I have something to discuss with our contact Charles Dickens anyway.”

He nodded, tipped his hat, and slipped out of the carriage and onto the roof of it. The asylum wasn’t too far from their current location. He’d be able to close the distance in less than half an hour easily. Shorter than that if he stayed to the roof tops and thus away from any kind of Blighters that might slow him down in the process. From what he understood Evie had done what she could in the light of day to curb them but he didn’t have the time to test just how well she had done. 

He leapt onto the nearest rooftop, rolled easily on it and caught himself on his feet on the edge of it as if he had planned it that way. It was a fun and interesting trick. He’d have to try it again sometime. He used the edge of the building to leap onto the next and started jogging at first then running along the center of the roofs to keep the momentum going. He leapt up to meet the taller buildings and fell easily between the lower ones. Only once or twice did he have to pause and decide a new course but he was barely slowed by that. 

He did stop just outside of the gate of the asylum standing by a tree to watch the people gathering. There weren’t as many people as he was expecting but that was fine. They would provide a distraction none the less. The guards would be too focused trying to keep the patients calm with so many unexpected (to the patients) guests in their midst. With his hat and cane well hidden, Jacob slipped his hood on instead and leapt over the fence without touching the metal once. All the better, he thought when he tried to flex his hands and found the one with the wound in it was still stiff. Oh well. He had applied another treatment to it before he put the gauntlet on earlier. Hopefully it would just continue to improve with time.

He used all the speed he could muster to make it across the dark yard, drawing the attention of several dogs but not the men that kept them on their leashes. He was well out of the human’s sight by the time they tried to look for him and half way up the building. The morgue was on the other side of it from where he had been and was less guarded than this one. All the better to use the roof to get to that side and slip in through the lowest open window. Evie said she wanted to draw some attention this time. Let the enemy know they were here. Knocking out a few guards –without killing them because they were not involved directly- would be simple enough if he had to although it would be better if he could avoid them entirely.

The side of the building the morgue was on judging by the smell had maybe one guard patrolling the outside that was too distracted to really catch anything even if he dropped right in front of him. Jacob was almost insulted by the idea but then thought on it and decided it was just a symptom of Templar arrogance in this city. They didn’t think one of their own would be hunted in the city they so clearly owned. Ha! He was about to show them!

Using his claws, he climbed down the building easily and popped the lock to the window of a room he had previously found to be empty and still remained as such. From beneath the door he saw the flicker of lamps and the quiet distant murmurs of conversations he really didn’t care to listen for. More important were the nearer footsteps and the sound of someone struggling against those hands. A patient probably, headed for whatever treatment the doctor decided to test on him. A mad man wouldn’t necessarily make a useful ally but perhaps a group of them might eventually if they needed another way into this place later. He waited until the footsteps and scuffling were long passed before he slipped out into the hallway, keeping low as he followed the sound. Interesting. They were already heading in the direction he needed to go. All the better to free the man on his way to the mission.

They had just strapped him down when Jacob sneaked up behind them and covered their mouths and noses with his hands, holding them both tight until their struggles stopped and they slumped where he held them. As carefully as he was able he lay them both down at the man’s feet and met the patient’s eyes. He smirked and motioned for silence and the wide eyed patient nodded frantically as he cut the restraints with a single claw. He heard the man stay still until he was already at the bottom of the stairs then run frantically down the hall presumably back to his cell. Or wherever he thought was safe. 

He mattered little now. He could tell by the sheer stench of it that he was near the morgue and while there were a few men pacing around it for some reason they were in a morgue. He wasn’t too concerned about where he hide the bodies. These men were not orderlies or innocent hospital staff. For the first time since he had been turned into a vampire he closed his eyes and let his vision shift from the colors of the night into the blues, reds and gold of the other sight. These men glowed red, just as he thought they would. Be blinked back to normal and took them both out before the color faded completely, easily hiding them in various bins or in the beds about the place. Even without looking at his pocket watch he knew he didn’t have much more time. He needed to find the right corpse and now.

There were a few men on the beds about the place, hidden beneath white blankets, but there was one that smelled slightly different, probably the patient the doctor had used his drug on that he planned on demonstrating with tonight. This body he moved out of the way as he had with the guards and easily slipped into its place, dropping his hood before he laid down and making sure his hands stayed underneath the blankets. The man had been naked, all the better to cut him open Jacob supposed, and while he didn’t need any weapons, he wouldn’t exactly have the time to come back and get his things once this was done. He kept he closed his eyes when he heard voices walk into the room. Assistants judging by the medicinal smell about them.   
They questioned where the guards were but then dismissed the idea and pulled down the blanket over his face for just a minute as if to check he was the body they needed. They sounded confused until they probably saw the lingering lines on his face as assumed that was part of the medicine. He wanted to huff at how easy they were to fool but kept it to himself as they covered his face again and wheeled his gurney toward the lecture room. He heard some commotion towards the wards where the patients were being guided to their rooms presumably for sleep but stayed still.

The lecture hall was fuller than Jacob had originally estimated judging by the sheer number of heart beats he heard about the place. There was even the smell of several guards about the place. If he was fast enough he could slip out before they shouldered their weapons. Hopefully he could manage. He really didn’t need to dig more bullets out of himself tonight. The assistants stepped away from the gurney as the man he was after swept closer, speaking with all the authority of a man who was absolutely certain he was right. Fool. 

Jacob heard the man picking up a scalpel and sensed the hand reaching out for the blanket. He waited until he heard the man’s voice pause, no doubt confused until Jacob opened eyes. He saw the surprise and outright fear in his target a second before he leapt up and buried his hidden blade deep in the human’s chest, his other hand wrapped tight around his neck. “The Brotherhood sends it’s greetings to your masters,” he said then both snapped the man’s neck and withdrew the blade. He heard gasps about the room. So the neck snapping was more obvious. Good. 

He was out of the bed and standing over the body, drawing his hood up with a smirk as he turned to leave, barely making it out the door before bullets followed him out. There was a scramble as the students ran and the guards tried to follow. The hallway was long and Jacob had no doubt there were regular patrols by here. Fortunately he was fast. More than fast enough to gain a far enough head start that he was able to slip into a room before the guards in the lecture could get him in range of their pistols. He heard other hospital staff hurrying down the other end of the hallway to help. The window in this room was locked but he was able to break the glass easily and slip out into the night.

Instead of heading across the grass as the humans might expect he scaled the building instead, well aware the sound of the glass breaking would attract the attention of the hounds. The barking might have been unnerving if he was any slower than he was while he scaled the hospital itself, making it to the roof just as lanterns were swung around frantically and guards scrambled to try and find him. The vampire within was annoyed he had killed without feeding but it was for the greater good. Something he had to rationalize to it before it would quiet down. 

He watched the guards scramble for some time until they seemed to just accept that he was gone and the students that had once been excited walked out of the lecture in shock and some of them even afraid. They didn’t know what their lecturer was involved in. To an outsider it might seem random, even savage. And he was sure the Order was going to spin it that way in the papers. But if they were lucky the person who made the announcement would be one more thread to guide them to the key Templars they needed to eliminate to free London of the Order’s hands. 

Eventually he was able to slip off the asylum’s grounds and return to where he had stashed his hat and cane which were still there and untouched. The hat went on in place of the hood and with a little practice he was able to find a comfortable rhythm to use the cane in that made it feel as natural as he could make it. Evie had said she would meet him at a pub this time. Lambeth had a few of them though. Which one had she meant? She hadn’t said. But wasn’t like he had no means to track her down. They were twins after all. He had some idea what kind of pub she’d look for. And he could track her down by… other means if he truly had to. He had hours before dawn. He had the time to find her. And he was sure that Dickens was enjoying the conversation wherever he was. The men in the city for whatever reason seemed to enjoy her company more than any men in the country did. 

Yet even with the mission accomplished, the Templar dead, and, as far as he knew, most of the Blighter’s leadership in the area eliminated or running for their sad little lives there was something about the streets of Lambeth tonight that set Jacob’s hair on end. It wasn’t quite something he could describe accurately but it felt like there were eyes on him that both he and the vampire couldn’t pin point the location of. It may have sounded strange but he wasn’t afraid of those eyes. Just aware of them. Was it the man who visited him yesterday? Probably but why? Making sure his ointments and potions were working? If he wasn’t sure then why would he give them over?

He was half tempted to try to lose those eyes but also got the impression that he couldn’t and to try to do otherwise would just attract attention he didn’t want. Damn it. Just one more thing to worry about.


	14. Time is Slipping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob meets up with Evie and the pair are chased by Hunters. Evie realizes what they're up against and knows they have to move their time table up.

Evie was less than impressed when he found her and quietly gave her a report over a beer that he wasn’t so sure he could drink anymore. Yet the mission was accomplished and that was all that mattered really. “Now we watch,” she said soft, “and keep an eye on who moves fastest.” It was what she said earlier though why she felt the need to repeat it he had no idea. Did she think he forgot? Or was she just reminding herself? It seemed odd that she would think her own memory so flawed. Unless… unless there was something else she wasn’t saying.

“Evie? What’s wrong? You don’t seem so sure about it.”

“It feels…” She seemed to think about it for a moment and turned to lean against the table she had found, rubbing her face and smearing her make up a bit. Suddenly she looked so very tired and so very strained. As if she was shouldering a burden she couldn’t hope to carry for much longer. “This all feels far too easy. Like they’re letting us win these little victories. If the Brotherhood couldn’t take back control in a hundred years, why would we, who came here not long ago, find it so easy to take back the city? It doesn’t feel right.”

“Like they’re waiting to ambush us.”

“Precisely.”

And here he thought they were just that good as assassins. It was far more likely she was right and that was unnerving to consider. Then there were the words that the man had all but purred into his ear. A grand finale. He wasn’t allowed to fall before whatever grand finale the vampire that sired him had planned out. Which meant that until they got closer to whatever was planned they were going to keep cutting into the Templar’s steadily built empire. They’d have to be more careful now. Watch the consequences of their actions more closely. Maybe if they were quick enough one or the other of them would see the net closing in around them and slip from it before they were snagged by it.

He sighed and downed his beer all at once, already feeling it shift and unsettle his empty stomach. “Right then!” he said slightly louder than he intended but not so loud as to sound out of place in the pub. “It sounds like we should head back and get some kind of sleep before the real work begins.” Well not him. But Evie needed the sleep. With the sun rise the Templars would stir and thus begin their work like ants in the background of the waves of people. She’d be able to get a few hours of sleep at least by his estimate. Or so he hoped.

Yet Evie didn’t seem overly grateful as he got her to her feet and guided her with a hand on her shoulder out the pub like they were friends talking. There weren’t many men now that dared to try to talk to her but the few that were so bold shut up when Jacob drew attention to himself. Pathetic. Perhaps Greenie was the better option. He at least seemed inclined to treat her like an equal. And if he ever did otherwise he didn’t worry overly much about Evie being unable to handle herself. The bookwork stood no chance if Evie decided she wouldn’t take his advances anymore. The sword was certainly mightier than the pen if Evie was the one holding it. 

They didn’t speak much on their way back to the train station where they would meet their train, mostly because they didn’t want to risk the enemy accidentally overhearing anything they shouldn’t know. Jacob wasn’t so sure that it mattered all that much but if she thought it would help so he did as she asked and kept them focused on where they were going when the gas lamps weren’t bright enough to light the way for human eyes. The streets now, even those with pubs, were thinning out with people. The few that still walked about were not particularly alert of their surroundings, most of them focused on the women they were with or drunkenly stumbling home. Most of these neither of them paid any attention.

But there were a few amongst them whose demeanor drew Jacob’s attention. They were far from tired or drunk and they did not wear the uniform of the police that patrolled the area. Some of them were well dressed. Others could easily have wandered over from Whitechapel. He subtly pointed Evie in the direction of one of them who had turned his gaze away for a moment to look busy. “We’re being watched. I’m not sure by who.”

“They don’t look like Templars.”

“I can’t see a cross on them.”

“More hunters? Like the one you stumbled across?”

He scratched his nose then to hide the deep breath he took, focusing on the man as they walked by him. There was silver on him, enough of it that it made his nose prickle, but what form it took he couldn’t tell. Either way, it was enough to make him nervous and his wounded hand twitched with the memory of the pain in it. He wasn’t alone though and with Evie to back him up there was no way any of them would be so lucky as to cut him with that damned blade. “They’ve got silver with them but I can’t tell what kind or in what shape it’s in.” Pocket watches alone didn’t smell that strongly and if it was a blade of some kind it was small enough to be easy to hide in a jacket. 

Evie’s eyes caught on another one who was staring them down and she quickly turned her gaze away. “We need to find a less obvious route for them to follow. Pretend I’ve said something funny and slip into an alleyway like I’m your girlfriend or something.” 

He wrinkled his nose at the very idea. “Really? That’s a tactic I’d expect you to use on Henry!” Not that these people could tell from this distance they were related but still. Being flirty with his twin sister… ugh. 

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Lean on me a little more like you’re drunk. I’ll half carry you through the alley and then we’ll get to the roofs once we’re clear of most of them.” No flirting required. 

She sighed but did as he asked and easily carried the extra weight she was putting on him into the alleyway, talking to her as if she were a wasted little bird who had no idea how to hold her drink just loudly enough for their followers to hear. He was sure he’d pay for the condescending words later but right now they would work. He made sure the spot he got them to was too dark for humans to see in before he picked her up and put all his strength into leaping up to the nearest rooftop. It was harder to do with the extra weight but he got there. Her quiet sound of surprise and he was careful to set her down on a relatively flat spot on the rooftop. 

“Well. That was… I’ll be honest I did think you were exaggerating when you said you could do that.”

“Not just that but right now we need to get back to the train. They’ll spot us again if we stand here too long.”

Not a moment later Jacob heard the sound of something whizzing passed his ear and he turned to find the man that had been eyeing them earlier holding what looked like a crossbow of all things aimed in his direction. Fuck. “Go! Go!” 

Evie took off as fast as she was able to in her heeled boots and while Jacob could have moved faster around her he wouldn’t leave her behind. Not with these people. He considered for just a moment dropping down and eliminating this man himself but figured that the hunter’s friends were likely close by too. And now they might think that Evie was a vampire too. Shit. That was an easy enough mistake to correct by her doing her investigating in daylight he supposed unless there were some vampires that could and would walk in sunlight somehow. He had no idea. He barely understood himself, how he was supposed to understand vampires as a people?

More bolts were fired his way. He heard scrambling up the buildings. Evie was moving faster than they could hope to keep up with, especially with such a head start, but she couldn’t out run a bullet or crossbow bolt. He’d just have to stay between them. Maybe try to lead a few of them away somehow if she could slip from their immediate sight. One of their pursuers fired a pistol. He cursed as the bullet hit the chimney just over his shoulder. Damned marksmen these ones were. And the bullet smelled of poison but not quite silver.

Their path via the rooftops could not last forever. The buildings were getting father apart as they reached the path the tracks cut through the city. Evie didn’t hesitate as she made a leap of faith off the building into a nearby hay bale. Jacob stayed on the rooftop. He’d wait until she slipped out of it before he “fell” after her. Hopefully they had moved too fast for the men on the ground to follow. “Stop, demon!” one of the men on the rooftop shouted, crossbow rearmed and held steady.   
Jacob almost laughed. “Did you really think that would work?” He had to stall them to give Evie enough time to get out of sight. 

“You stopped didn’t you?”

“Not because you commanded it.” 

The crossbow fired and he twisted out of the way just as another was fired which he twisted out of the way also. They seemed annoyed but not surprised. Huh. Maybe they were hunting the Other too, whomever that man was. Or there were other real vampires in London. There were certainly enough people to make it relatively easy to blend in provided they didn’t do what he did and announce themselves with theatrics. At least unnecessary ones.

It didn’t take long until he heard Evie’s heels muffle then quiet completely and he let his shoulders sag very slightly in relief. “Well then. This has been fun boys but I have someplace I need to be.” As in out of the streets.

One of the men shouted and fired a pistol. Jacob moved just enough so that it missed him (although the smell of the silver on the bullet still brushed his nose (and he couldn’t help the disgust on his face at the stench) and fell backward on purpose into the wagon of hay, arms spread as if he had made the leap on purpose. It caught his weight and he sank into the hay deep enough that he didn’t have his hands or feet exposed through it. He heard the scramble of feet to the edge of the roof to look over and someone giving orders that the others go down and make sure he was dead. The light he could see through the wagon and the hay faded for a moment as if a random cloud was passing by and he quickly slipped out of his hiding space, making sure he still had his hat and cane with him as he ran as fast as his supernatural legs could carry him across the open space to somewhere dark and well out of sight. He knew Evie would meet him at the train. Which should be passing by soon.

Keeping to the streets, Jacob had little choice but to slink along, carefully moving as if through enemy territory and keeping both his claws and blades to himself as he made his way to the station where he used the shadows to keep hidden until it swept by. It wasn’t until he was safely back in his carriage that he really let all the tension go. Evie seemed just as tense in his room as if she had been pacing for some time. “Well, that answers that. Damn it Jacob! As if we didn’t have enough to contend with!”

“They aren’t hunting us. Just me. They’ll either think that you are a victim of mine or that you’re a fellow vampire which is an opinion which will fade when they see you in the sunlight. I have no doubt they’re all over Lambeth now searching for the hide away.”

“As if that makes things easier!”

“It does if they are also hunting the other man. The one who turned me into this! He must be a Templar and as familiar with the Hunters as they are of him judging by the way they seem unsurprised at what I can do.”

She sighed and seemed ready to pull out her hair. Instead she folded her arms over her chest and went back to pacing. Jacob took the opportunity to remove the gauntlet and shed his outer layers. He needed to apply the treatment before he went to sleep. At least the tin said to apply it twice a day until the wound healed naturally. It still looked angry when he glanced at it and there were still dark lines winding up his arm under his sleeve. Even the immortal were subject to giving their wounds the time they needed to heal. 

He sat down to apply it, flinching when the substance soaked into the open cut but continuing to apply it. Evie slowed her pacing when she saw what he was doing. “We need to move up our time table and get you out of the city. If the Hunters are aware of you they will be watching for signs. If we can get your Sire to come out in the open and split their attention then we might be able to get you out until they scatter again.”

“You have names?” Jacob asked, “Or any idea where I might find these Templars?”

“Not yet. Give me two or three days.”

“I will have to feed in between.”

“You can hunt but keep it to Whitechapel maybe or somewhere around the Thames. Somewhere they won’t expect or notice you.”

And that would just make the hunt that much more challenging now wouldn’t it. The Thames would make it easier to hide the bodies at least for a time but eventually it would draw the attention of the authorities. Attention to a single killer that didn’t necessarily have ties to either side. He’d just have to be careful to not leave too many bodies or too often. He could manage it. Probably. Hopefully.


	15. A Message in Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob hunts down Attaway and gets a message from his Sire though her blood. Then there is more to one of their allies than there appears to be when Jacob returns to his rooms and find a man with a silver blade waiting.

The investigations were slow moving. It took Evie nearly a week to find the next name on their list and even more time to find any and relevant information that they needed to be able to take them out subtle. In the meantime Jacob left the train just long enough to satiate his hunger and perhaps verify some of the information Evie found during the day. The Hunters were out in force now that they realized they hadn’t killed him. He stuck to the rooftops almost exclusively now, his cane and top hat staying at home as he slunk around in the deep hood of the Brotherhood to keep as much out of sight as he could. Only a few times had he needed to slip out of their sharp sight but no one, even the Hunters were harmed as a result.

The first name they found was a woman who ran a transport business. A woman who was too stern and a little too familiar with how businesses were run in London to really find her pretty face and somewhat flattering words compelling. Yet he still looked her over in the blues and reds of the other vision and was not really surprised to see she glowed red. He pretended to listen to her words when he caught up to her, kept his gaze away if only to avoid drawing attention to his eyes, and took what she asked of him back to Evie. They’d pretend to play her game, they decided as a pair. Perhaps then she’d relax enough to make the killing easier.

It wasn’t until Jacob, upon slipping secretly into a hideaway of hers, heard her speaking to Starrick himself as his cousin that he really made the connection of how close they were to dismantling the whole Templar mess. He followed her from that place easily, her guards not standing a chance as he snapped their necks before they realized he was even there. She had just gotten ready for bed and was wearing only her night shirt when he caught up to her in her rooms. Her offended look was honestly quite amusing. 

“This is most inappropriate!” she snapped, “And you will leave my room now! If you must call on me, you will do so at a reasonable hour, Assassin.”

“Now see, that is not quite why I’m here,” he replied and swept the hood back to really let her see his face. He smirked just as his fangs lengthened. She jumped and stared but tried to stand strong. She failed miserably. “Did you really think you played me well enough that I wouldn’t know what you are Lady Templar? I do so enjoy playing with my prey before I put it out of its misery.”

“You won’t touch me, Assassin. The moment you do Starrick will hunt your Brotherhood to the ends of the earth and make every one of them suffer for what you’ve done to me.”

“So confident. It’s as if you don’t realize just who I am either.”

He moved faster than she could see and pinned her quite effectively against the wall next to her door. She couldn’t hide her fear anymore. It was delicious. This time he didn’t need to show off. He didn’t want to. The smaller hunts were fun exercises. This, however, this was a sport and she’d make the sweetest of rewards. “You presume they’ll know exactly what was done to you. And that you’ll take your secrets to your grave.”

His clawed hand grabbed her face and she tried to fight him as best she could. But he was too strong. Too much larger. When he sank his fangs into her neck he almost purred at the taste of her blood. A bit spicy and he could almost see her memories in it. Strange. This hadn’t happened before. What was happening?

Then he was being pulled into those memories or it felt like he was. One particular memory felt as real as when he had been standing in her room. She was standing in a room talking with someone he couldn’t see clearly. Someone whose face was shrouded in shadow and whose voice was masked and distorted. Did she not remember this person? Yet in the memory she spoke as if she knew that person, was familiar enough with him that she felt comfortable standing alone in a room with him. Her side of the conversation didn’t give many clues as she did not use names but more so her voice seemed to fade when she used certain words too. It was as if the memory itself was being manipulated. What?

The figure itself turned to him, then, as if he had been in the original memory though he knew he had never been there and even with all of the distortion and shadows he saw a smirk on the man’s face. “So you found her. Good. I was hoping I would get a chance to test this method of delivery though I am sorry I had to use her of all people to do so.”

Determined to not let the figure see how this bizarre move unnerved him, Jacob forced a cheerful smile and casual demeanor. “She was pretty, that’s for certain,” he agreed, “Though a bit too cut throat and Templar for my taste.” Not that he was really looking for a woman in this town. He had been a bit distracted what with dealing with his vampirism in the city and the Assassin’s business. Maybe once all of this was over he’d consider it. Maybe. If he was still alive-ish.

The figure didn’t seem to care. “The Hunters have been out in force recently. Killing one of their number was not the smartest of moves on your part.”

The light hearted demeanor faded. “I didn’t know of Hunters to begin with much less that there was a whole pack of them. Somebody just sort of left me in the middle of Crawley without an instruction manual while my father died of a vampire’s bite. I’ll assume you’re the one who bit my father and let him die a slow and painful death?”

“I honestly don’t remember. I’ve bitten so many. But you’re the first I’ve met with skill and looks to be turned, pretty bird. Call it vanity if you must. I’d rather our number remain small but skilled, not overwhelming and stupid.”

“Just tell me what you want. I have other matters to attend to you know.”

The figure stepped forward and Jacob felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. A hand reached out to him and laid gently on his chest, tracing the lapel that rested just over the rook tattoo on his skin. A tattoo that the man wouldn’t have known about unless he saw… well. He had been shirtless the last time they met despite the man being behind him. Maybe he had caught a glimpse of it somehow. “The Hunters of London are a dangerous people but if kept under control can be a useful ally. You just have to make sure to avoid their sight while you direct their attention elsewhere.”

“Toward you perhaps?”

“Or on each other. Humans are prone to hysteria and jumping to paranoid conclusions.”

“I don’t have the time for that.” And subtle manipulation like that was Evie’s field not his. “I’d rather just focus on getting you Templars out of office and giving the power back to the people where it belongs.”

“The same people who would call us monsters and have us hunted down and eradicated for existing.”

“I don’t know, we are, rightfully so, murderers and bloody ones at that.” He assumed so at least. Whoever the man was he served as a Templar. He likely didn’t care about what he had to do to meet the goals of the Order. Few of them ever did and the few that did care simply didn’t stay in any position of power. 

The figure huffed but its smile was fond that much he could see. “You really are a special one aren’t you, little bird? I’d wish you luck but it would seem self-depreciating to do so. Instead I hope we meet each other sooner rather than later. Oh the things we could do together.”

The hand that had been tracing his lapel snapped up, almost faster than he could follow and grabbed his neck to pull him forward into a kiss he might have fought out of if it lasted longer. It felt strange and distant (like this whole dream really) but more than that it felt… inevitable? Like being welcomed home? He shuddered against the odd sensation as he was let go and the figure snapped his fingers just as he was recovering letting Jacob return to himself and the waking world. Miss Attaway remained where he had pinned her, her eyes wide and lifeless as they stared over his shoulder and a quick glance at a nearby clock told him barely five minutes had passed.

Shaken he carefully carried her to her bed, slit her throat to cut through the bite marks and slipped out of her home into the night. He was glad that it was late enough he didn’t have to worry about curious eyes as he stumbled onto the rooftops unusually clumsy. His stomach full of blood he didn’t need to stay any more than he wanted to. So he hurried back to the train, hoping to calm his racing mind and think more carefully on the man’s words about the Hunters and… other things. Like how he wasn’t as uncomfortable with the other vampire’s kiss as he should have been.

He had never been a deviant. The figure of a man had never drawn his eye. He was sure that if he looked now there would still be women with handsome faces and curvy figures hidden beneath their layers of corsets and dresses that could still stir the want in him. Attaway had been beautiful, he hadn’t been lying about that. But something about this figure he had never seen drew him to the man more powerfully than any woman’s seductive smirk and flirty touches. He blamed the vampire inside, the compulsion to give into his Sire’s unspoken commands. Maybe… maybe this was being done against his will. Maybe this was just the Sire using his power to convince Jacob of a mutual attraction that isn’t there.

There. That had to be it. It just had to be. As for the Hunters…

Jacob was so distracted he missed the platform he was leaping toward and ended up needing to reach out and catch himself before he fell too far. The streets below him looked empty but that didn’t mean that if he landed nobody would notice. His arm wrenched and his hand stung but he managed to pull himself up without doing any more damage. Ugh. He was useless while so distracted. 

“Are you alright, Mister Frye?” 

He snapped his gaze up to fall on one of the lady Rooks that he had set to watch this part of the town and was both surprised and relieved that it was just her. He could have sworn he assigned them to walk in pairs at the least, threes or fours if they were in a part of town he had Evie hadn’t liberated yet. “Where is your partner?” he asked as he straightened and dusted his hands off.  
“Takin’ a piss sir. He got a little too drunk before his shift this time but he’s nothing I can’t handle.” She was a gangster. She wouldn’t have survived as long as she had if she couldn’t. The fact that there were so many women who had so few options in London was disheartening but he supposed there weren’t many options for women in any city today. It wasn’t like he could help with that just yet. The Templars had to be removed from power before any changes could happen. Then he’d look into it. Or Evie would. It really depended on how all of this turned out.

“As long as he’s not too far. It’s been quiet?”

“A few lurkers here and there but they were pretty easy to chase off.”

Well that was good news at least. If she chased Hunters off they seemed to realize the Rooks were humans at least. So they weren’t completely unconscionable. Just relentless. Well. That was something to work with.

He chatted with the woman for a bit until her partner got back who apologized for needing to step away though it was clear he was still just a little too drunk to do more than keep watch. The train came by soon afterwards and he slipped aboard, ready to take a load off and write down both what happened at Attaway’s place and the odd new way the other vampire seemed to be wanting to make contact. He could still feel the ghost of that kiss on his lips though not much beyond that. He forced the thought to the back of his mind. Mission report first. Evie would need to know those details before she could move forward. 

He had been just about to remove his gauntlet when something stirred in his room and he froze. The stench of the city must really be filling his nose if he couldn’t tell someone was in his rooms. Or else Attaway’s blood had dulled his senses for a bit somehow. He took a deep breath and after a moment realized the one in his room was Henry. Interesting. He lit one of the lamps in the room and turned to the assassin as he unbuckled the gauntlet. “Greenie! Well this is a surprise. What can I do for you?” He tossed the metal onto the table but didn’t turn his back on the other. He could smell something silver on him now that he was paying attention. Something that was muffled somehow. 

“Is it true?” he demanded, “that Hunters are coming for you?”

“What are you talking about? Hunters? Hunters of what?”

“Do not play the fool with me, Jacob!”

“But apparently playing the fool is what I’m really good at! Regardless, seriously, what is this about?”

Henry, frustrated with his lack of answers, leapt at him, the silver thing flashing in the small room but he caught the man’s wrist before it came down on him. The blade was not something he had ever seen before, somewhere between a sword and a dagger but a little thicker. It stunk of silver now that it was out in the open. It was all he could do to ignore the smell and stay focused on keeping that hand steady and away from him. He really didn’t want to have to take Henry out himself. Evie was rather fond of the man for some reason. Eventually he was able to find the means to keep the knife at bay and kick the man hard enough to knock him back a few steps.

Every instinct was ready to fight, to tear this man apart for attacking him in his own home. But he had to try to let reason assert itself. Killing a brother Assassin was tantamount to treason. Damn it.


	16. On the Run. Again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob is forced to flee from the train and asks Dickens for help in trading notes with Evie. Dickens needs a favor first though...

The sun was scalding the stone of the abandoned building in Whitechapel he had found just before the sun rose. He felt his heart thudding slowly in his chest and if he still needed to breathe he would have been struggling to catch his breath. His hands shook slightly and he felt as wired as if he was in the middle of a hunt. But as his body calmed from the race to find a safe haven away from the burning rays of the sunlight he tried to focus his thoughts into something looking like coherency. Right. So. Henry was a Hunter and an Assassin thus both an ally and an enemy and if the Assassins didn’t know about his ties to the Hunters then killing him would really just put him even higher on the Council’s shit list and he really didn’t want to see if he could survive both the Assassins and the Hunters coming after him at once. He had little choice but to render Henry unconscious, leave Evie a quick note, and gather the things he absolutely needed to keep with him to make his escape into the night. Hopefully she could read between the lines. He couldn’t have let it be too obvious with Henry no doubt trying to read it himself afterward.

He told her only what he could manage with a few lines of written word, namely that Henry was a threat to him and that he couldn’t return to the train until the Templars were eliminated or Henry saw reason enough to put down that damn silver blade. He’d leave her notes with that inventor she liked so much or Dickens if he ran into the man. In the meantime he’d have to use the streets of London to his advantage. There were plenty of Blighters about the city still. And there were still Templars that couldn’t hide their allegiances if they tried. They would be a simple matter to assassinate even if he stuck with normal means of doing so. It would work, at least, until Evie got him the name and some details of his next target. Speaking of which he still should write out that report for her. She would need to know about what happened to Attaway and perhaps she could make more sense out of that vision the vampire managed to tie into Attaway’s blood somehow.

Very carefully Jacob managed to slip around the sunlight splashing on the wooden floor at his feet and deeper into the abandoned building that, at least the signage outside said, was condemned. He could see why with the rafters clearly rotting overhead and the smell of insects about the place. He had stayed in worse, however, and for today it would do as a safe place to sleep. Or, relatively safe at least. The basement to the building was perhaps the best shot he had at a safe sleep with the fewest interruptions. The first floor was clearly a popular place for the unfortunate to seek shelter from the storms and the rain, at least those clever enough to get into the building, but they were often early risers. It was unlikely they’d be back today.

He slipped by the worst of it, toward to a door that looked half rotting where it hung in its place on its rusted hinges. The cool air he could feel coming past the door soothed the ache where the first of the sun’s rays had burned his cheek a little before he found shelter. He could smell mold amidst that delightfully cool air. Ugh. But at least if someone did come across they would just think him dead and leave him alone. If he could hide his obvious valuables well enough. It shouldn’t be too hard. 

He moved the door out of the way easily enough (though it was obvious why the unfortunate didn’t move it on their own if they moved it at all) and settled it back into place, relaxing in the cool darkness for the first time since he had left Attaway’s apartments last night. If there was a flat surface he’d write out the report down here and hold onto it until the sun set. He thought he still had a pen with him somewhere in his jackets. It should still have some ink in it too.

One of the stairs gave way beneath his feet but he was able to recover and keep going without any more incidents. He could see rats scattering. Flies buzzing around the bodies of something that died weeks ago. They wouldn’t bother him though he did feel a little bit uncomfortable knowing he was going to be sharing the room with at least one rotten corpse. As it turned out there was a small desk left down here. It was warped, clearly left for too long in the moisture, and some of it was already rotting, but when he leaned his weight on it slightly it was sturdy enough to write on at least. It was going to have to do. He didn’t have many other options at the moment and this report had to be written.

By the time he was done he felt more exhausted than he had from running for his life twice over in the same night. Was it the influence of the sun? He remembered feeling tired if the moon was out even if he had gotten a good day’s sleep before an overnight mission when he was still human. Or maybe it was because he had expended so much energy in his escapes? He couldn’t remember being this tired as a man. Maybe he’d be able to try to figure it out if he slept on it. Yes. Sleep sounded good. Tucking the report into his clothes and hiding the most obviously valuable things he owned in places they would have to touch or move him to get to, Jacob settled down for the day as comfortably as he could and forced himself to relax. There was no one in the building. It was unlikely any of the Hunters could find him here. Even Evie had no idea where he was. He was safe. Alone and safe.

At some point he did fall asleep because when he awoke it was to the sound of people stirring upstairs. He heard mostly women’s voices, a few young men and children and the sound of some small pots being moved around as if they were going to prepare a meal. Whatever they did get to feed themselves and the children likely wasn’t much. He might have considered leaving them something to buy decent food with if he didn’t need to coin to ensure they stayed safe from the more mercenary of the Rooks. He adjusted his clothing, brushing off the worst of the dirt and whatever else had settled on him in the night. No one had been downstairs, that much he could tell, and thus everything was right where he had left it. Good. Now he just had to come up with a plan. 

He waited until the majority of the unfortunates gathered moved away from the room the door led into before he stepped through it, easily fitting it back into place. When he was done he saw one of the children standing in the doorway, staring at him with huge eyes. He smiled at the girl and winked, motioning for silence, before he walked up the stairs to the second story where he planned on slipping out through the same window he had slipped in through. He was wearing clothes that were a little too nice for Whitechapel but to use the rooftops would draw the attention of the Hunters in the area. He couldn’t afford to bring a tail with him to meet one of his and Evie’s contacts in the city. 

Unless he purposely spoke to the Rooks he encountered. Then he’d be seen as a gangster and left alone. He was technically a gangster so it wasn’t a completely incorrect assumption. But he wasn’t the type to randomly assault the people for their hard earned money. Not when the Blighters wore such pretty red uniforms and asked for their beatings so nicely. Plus there was the chance that in speaking with the Rooks they could help him throw off any tails he picked up and they could let him know if they had seen Dickens in any nearby pubs. He’d go south into Lambeth on foot if he had to but the less he had to travel the better, really.

So Jacob wove his way among the people of Whitechapel, letting some of them see his red eyes and the unusually sharp teeth to keep them moving on their way. For the most part he was left alone up until he encountered a triplet of Rooks, literally a set of Rooks who were triplets named Mike, Michael and Matt. All three of them were big men who used the fact they looked alike to mess with people and look all the more intimidating for it. He liked them. They were good people and understood the line between something serious and a joke.

“Mister Frye!” One of them, Jacob couldn’t tell which, said with a bright smile and a hearty clap on his shoulder that may have made him stagger months ago, “Been a while since we seened you ‘round these parts! You gettin’ up to anything fun down in Lambeth?”

“Some things are going well, some things could be better,” Jacob replied with a broad grin in return. “How have things been here? Nice and quiet with just the right number of Blighters left with some fight to keep things interesting?”

“Ha! You always have the best ideas, Mister Frye!” a different brother laughed and folded his arms over his chest, “But yeah it’s been somethin’ like that. Pardon my sayin’ so, but, we’ve got this handled. Can we help you with somethin’ in Whitechapel?”

“Maybe. You know where Dickens might be at this hour? Kind of a flighty middle aged chap that writes his stories and likely gets wasted talking about them?”

“Probably in a pub then sir.”

“Which narrows it down to half of London.”

“I think I know where he’s at, Mister Frye. He hangs out at a pub three blocks down that way.”

“Do you know the name?”

The third brother rattles one off and they offer to walk with Jacob to the pub which he knows is a pretense for going to a pub and drinking while on patrol. Yet he can’t help but feel a bit safer with them escorting him like he was some kind of maiden. At least the Hunters would be more inclined to leave him alone if he was with clearly human companions. The four of them tagged along down the dark streets of London, not quite taking their time but certainly not running either. It made Jacob impatient but if it made him look more human it was for the best. 

The pub, when they reached it, was a small cramped place, like most pubs in London and filled with the noise of the people gathered laughing and chatting and flirting. It was a lighter feeling than he imagined most of this part of London was used to feeling once the sun was up. It took a second to spot Dickens sitting in his corner writing to his heart’s content something on the small no doubt scarred and sticky table he had managed to procure somehow. At least he thought it was Dickens. There were only so many people who would try to write in a pub.

Without buying a drink but giving the triplets the coin to get one on him, Jacob went Charles and took off his hat as he sat down across from the man. “Mister Dickens!” he said loudly enough to draw his attention, “Exactly where I thought you would be!” It amused him to see the writer jump but he didn’t spill his drink which was good. 

“Oh by… Do I know you?”

“You know my sister. Evie Frye.”

The writer looked distant for a second as if he was putting a name to a face and then smiled when he made a connection. Right. “Then you must be Jacob! Pleasure to make your acquaintance!”

“Likewise, Mister Dickens.”

“I imagine you didn’t come by to just say ‘hello’ though. Was something I could help and your esteemed sister with this fine evening?”

“Yes, I suppose you could say that.” Jacob reached inside his coat pocket and produced the report and the letter he wrote for Evie, offering him the letters. “Evie and I have been… running different errands of late and I haven’t had much time to get back to her on certain matters. Could you deliver these for me? It’s just some notes she wanted about something she asked me to look into.” Vague but perhaps with just enough urgency that he would make sure she got the letter. 

Dickens looked smug for a second, like he was considering something, then said, “Alright. I’ll get this to here. If you promise to help me out with something small first.”

Always a catch. But he doubted this writer would ask for something like an assassination or the sabatoge or a rival or something. He sat back and pretended to consider it for a second. “Alright. What do you need me to do? Find some research material for you?”

“Not quite.” His request was for something that, in all honesty, Jacob thought was a silly notion. Or would have had he not directly experienced the supernatural himself. Someone was running around as a vampire and he wanted the would-be vampire to be investigated. The human (for clearly no actual vampire would be so sloppy) had left obvious bodies and traces of itself with several witnesses. 

They were easy enough to track down and talk to. The human he ended up finding, wearing a ridiculous mask and fake fangs, was a bit of a challenge to keep up with without drawing attention to himself but he managed relatively well, even keeping his hood up to hide his face the whole time he chased the man down. Eventually he caught up to the figure who tried to trap him and the trap might have worked or even slowed him down if he was anyone else. “I would advise stopping while you’re ahead, friend,” he said loudly enough that the man might hear as he tried to make his escape, “If I can find you tonight I will find you tomorrow. I assure you of this. You harm somebody else, use the myth of vampires to terrify anybody else, and you won’t walk away next time I catch you.” Not that he was going to kill the man. There were other ways of slowing him down or stopping him.

But the would-be vampire didn’t know that. Jacob let the man get a head start and think he got away after he made his little threat. He’d give the guy one chance. Just the one. Rumors of vampires, true or not, would make the people more paranoid. More vigilant of irregularities. He had more than enough to contend with now.

He returned to the pub where Dickens was finally winding down and informed him of how his little adventure turned out to prove he’d held up his end of the bargain that they had made. Dickens smiled beneath his ridiculous mustache and shook Jacob’s hand. “Then consider your letters delivered. Thank you for your help in this matter and if I hear anything else about this rumored vampire I’ll be sure to find a way to let you know. Somehow.”

“Evie will know. If you can’t find me. Inform her.” He had to get going, back to the run down abandoned apartments he had stayed in last time. Morning was starting to come on more quickly than he liked.


	17. One Penny, Two Penny...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twopenny is eliminated. The people who live in the same abandoned building with Jacob get nervous with his odd behavior.

It took a few days for Evie to get word to him through the Rooks of where she would be leaving the next dossier and another night for him to find the damned thing and read it over properly. The people squatting in the same house he had taken to sleeping in during the day didn’t question him too much when they noticed he took nothing from them, not even food, while they were away during the day. One of the women asked why such a well-dressed man like him was slumming it down in a Whitechapel abandoned cellar and he had very politely said that he needed to stay in hiding and this was the best place he had found to do it. The woman hadn’t trusted him (wisely) and he didn’t trust them so he made sure his things were always secure when he went to sleep and that even they knew so little about him they couldn’t make a decent description of him if they tried.

The next target was an unusual one, at least to Jacob, as the target he was hunting was both an upstanding member of society and a bank robber. Specifically one going after the Bank of England itself. It was madness in his opinion but the man was clearly skilled and if the Templars looked to influence the city with their ability or inability to keep the people’s money safe then clearly this was the way to do it. The robbery, from what he could gather, would be taking place in a day or two from the time he read her notes. That meant he had one night to find this robber and eliminate him well before he even approached the bank. The picture he was given wasn’t particularly helpful either as he looked rather bland compared to most of the Order. 

But given he was trying to break into a vault, he’d need specialized tools and probably would hire the means to move the money from the bank somewhere else. Somewhere safer. The Rooks might have heard of someone setting up a safe house not too far from the Bank, maybe from some of the Blighters they came across in the districts he and Evie had not yet had the chance to clear out. It was his best bet. If he couldn’t find the man tomorrow night he’d have to stake out the Bank the next night.

Or perhaps, in all honesty, it was simpler than that. The robbery of such a large and well-guarded bank would take some careful planning and therefore would more than likely need the men in question to keep a watch over the place to plan for guard rotations. Twopenny may not be so easy to trace but his men likely were. The Blighters had already proven to be overconfident lumbering brutes anyway. Spot the watchers, follow one back to Twopenny’s hide out. Eliminate Twopenny before the robbery. There. A much better and much cleaner plan. Jacob thought Evie would have approved.

So he very carefully made his way over to where the Bank of England was located, sticking mostly to the back alleys and less populated streets to avoid the Blighters that still ran this part of London, before he took to the rooftops to keep an eye on the comings and goings around the buildings. The night was relatively bright for London and his eyes caught easily on the red of the Blighters’ uniforms as some paced about the place and others leaned against buildings acting as casually as could be managed while still clearly keeping an eye on the police. From where he lay against the rooftop, doing his best to remain hidden despite the moonlight, he could see four men clearly watching the bank. 

One was a big guy, likely one of the muscles Twopenny was going to try to use to keep the guards in check. Two were thinner men, one with a thick mustache and the other with sideburns that were so very popular for some bizarre reason. These two stuck together, chatting to make it look like they were waiting for someone. One of them lit a small pipe. Well one of these was going to be the look out if not both. They were certainly more subtle than the muscle guy. The last one was a woman and while she didn’t have a rifle with her it was clear by the way she was staying on the balcony and keeping an eye from a distance she was used to being high enough up to have a decent angle. Well. That was certainly going to make things interesting.

Knowing Evie, she was likely going to inform their police contact of the robbery that might take place in case he failed to stop the man in time, hence there were a few more visible guards than he imagined might be there normally. Either that or they were Templars assuring themselves that this robbery they were planning went as smoothly as possible. It was hard to tell from this distance. Police uniforms didn’t have the obvious red bands so favored by the Order.

It took a few hours for one of the four, the brute, to move from his space and pass by the pair that were smoking to tell them something too quiet for Jacob to hear. Whatever it was they nodded in acknowledgement and he walked passed them, presumably to leave. Jacob was quick to get to his feet and make the leap onto the next rooftop to follow him. If he was lucky the Hunters wouldn’t notice him as he moved quickly to keep up with the man but not follow so closely as to draw his attention. So far they seemed to think he haunted primarily Lambeth or Whitechapel. Maybe that imitation vampire would keep them busy for a time so he could focus here.

The Blighter brute ended up taking a few circuitous routes to get to his destination that were confusing but not entirely illogical and Jacob almost lost him once or twice before the man reached the relatively high end apartment that was his destination. He knocked on the door in a peculiar way and when it opened Jacob saw the man Evie had given him a photograph of answering it. “The bank must have been tipped off somehow about our heist. They’ve doubled the guard. There’s no way we get passed them as it is.”

Twopenny made a disappointed noise and stepped back to let the big man inside the apartment. The light in the living room brightened a bit and Jacob could see a pair of shadows moving about it. Hm. He had a couple of options if they stayed downstairs. He could just slip inside upstairs and wait there for the man to go to bed. Even if he had a family they were likely deep asleep if Twopenny was able to confidently hold his heist meetings in his own home at this hour. Killing him in his own bed like the had the last lesser Templar was clean and would hide at least some of the evidence if he did it right but if the man was married and he did kick up something of a fuss then his wife would end up a witness he could not afford… and killing outsiders to their war was not acceptable. They may be Assassins but they weren’t savages.

Perhaps it would be better, then, to wait until the brute of a man left, slip inside the home and assassinate him before he even made it upstairs? Yes. That might be a better plan. Witnesses would say they had seen the big guy leave, making him a more obvious target. All Jacob would have to do was to get into the house undetected and make sure to leave a bloody enough mess behind to make it look like an amateur had done it. Not a problem. He was starting to feel hungry anyway. He’d just have to be careful to ensure the mess he left behind looked like it could have been done by a human. 

With a plan in mind, Jacob slipped around the building and into the apartment’s backyard which he noticed was both well fenced in and perfectly well hidden from any neighbors that would try to spy. He saw no lights nor wandering human eyes in the windows of the surrounding apartments so he broke out his carefully chosen set of lock picks and began quietly picking the lock to the man’s home, listening all the while to their hushed but sharp conversation. He got the lock to click quietly just before a lull in the conversation, making him freeze in place lest they heard the sound. It resumed not long after and didn’t last too much longer before there was the sound of both men getting up and moving toward the front door. Jacob used the noise to cover his own quiet entry into the home and his subtle taking of a kitchen knife from where someone had washed it and set it aside. He was glad there was only a doorway and not a door between the kitchen and the dining room which was connected to the living room and the stairway upstairs by a long hallway. The less he had to worry about creaking doors the better. 

He listened closely while Twopenny gave the man his final instructions, including telling him to make sure that damned detective leading the investigation was “taken care of”, and waited until the door was closed and the brute was gone before making a move. He ended up catching Twopenny before he made it far into the living room itself, thus staying out of sight of the windows. “I must say,” Jacob said into the man’s ear while he held him tightly, “London does have its advantages sometimes. You don’t see places quite this nice out in the countryside.”

“I don’t imagine your kind see many nice places at all, Assassin,” Twopenny spat, “Not with the stupid and outright ridiculous decisions you cretins make.”

“Now, now, Mister Twopenny. No need to be rude. It was a compliment.”

“What do you want, boy?”

And that was the question wasn’t it? “I’m afraid what I want you can’t and won’t give me. Not when your masters rely on you so very much to keep their money flowing the way they need it to.”

“Money? Is that what this is about?”

“No, not really.” Jacob shifted one hand to keep his grip on the man firm while the other lifted the blade he had picked up for his target to see. The façade of calm and cool faded at the sight of it. The fear that filled the air made Jacob salivate slightly. “The city is supposed to belong to the people, Templar, not your Order’s grubby hands. All I’m doing is giving it back to them by making sure you pay your debt. With interest.”

Twopenny’s laugh was quiet and vaguely hollow sounding. “You think killing me will help this city? If anything the people will squander what money you give them. The Order understands economics and cash flow better than any civilian can hope to know.”

And it was entirely possible that he could be right. But it was more important that the possibility existed. “And yet it is theirs to fumble, Templar. You and yours have had your time.” 

Before Twopenny could say anything more, Jacob sank the blade deep into the man’s chest, carving through muscle and bone as if he was pressing a knife into warm butter while he sank his teeth into the human’s neck. This one’s blood tasted of metal mostly but unlike with Pearl he wasn’t pulled into a vision though he did watch the banker’s memories through his eyes. He almost didn’t notice when the body in his arms went limp as he was so lost in the flashes of the man’s life. It was fascinating. 

Eventually the memories faded and Jacob moved to lay the man on his couch while he butchered the body like an animal. What blood was left in him splattered everywhere and soaked into once fine carpets and curtains. Only when he was done did Jacob step back and survey his work. He might have considered it beautiful if he was so inclined to take pride in reducing a man to little more than a mess of flesh and bone. As it was he made sure to leave the blade in the man’s fireplace to make it seem like there was some effort to hide the evidence and left the room, making sure to leave streaks behind him along the walls and floors toward the front door. He didn’t leave that way though, instead using the coat that still hung on the rack to clean his hands and feet before making his way up the stairs to the dark rooms. He heard quiet breathing in two of them but a third was empty so he slipped inside there and used that window to slip out into the night, careful to close the window behind him lest the illusion he tried to weave be given away so easily.

He had barely made it a couple of blocks when there was a piercing cry filling the night air and then a police whistle. Huh. He didn’t expect whoever Twopenny shared his home with to suddenly feel the need to check on him so soon much less call for the police. The wealthy of London were either a paranoid bunch or else the woman’s cries were the female Templar who had decided to try to come by and give her report too. He really didn’t care to figure it. The mission was accomplished. The mastermind behind the operation was eliminated and even if what was left of his crew tried to pull off the heist Abberline and his men would easily be able to catch them in the act. 

All that was left was to get the message to Evie. The people of London would likely be outraged when they saw the news even if Twopenny himself was not obviously connected with the crimes. Whether anything could be done about it he wouldn’t know if he trusted his sister to know how best to manipulate the situation from the shadows to keep things relatively calm during their small coup of the established hierarchy. 

With the death of Twopenny, however, even with it having just happened, the Blighters it seemed were unusually stirred up and thus pushed for a fight more quickly than he was used to. With the streets as empty as they were it became harder to avoid them even in the back alleys and the few Hunters that stalked the streets in these parts seemed to watch him more closely than they did others. Or perhaps he was being unusually paranoid. He knew he’d feel better when he was back in the familiar streets of Whitechapel.

In the end he barely made it back to his temporary home in time. He ended up having to run the last few blocks. He had felt the sun’s first rays burning through his clothes. Damn it. Twopenny’s blood would heal the burns while he slept but it would leave him all the hungrier tomorrow night. He was sure of it. It was all he could do to get downstairs and out of the humans’ sight before he collapsed against the wall, even more exhausted than he had been the day before. Yet he couldn’t sleep. He had a report to write. He had to figure out a way to get it to Evie just after sunset. He had things that needed to be done. Things that couldn’t wait.

But his body decided for him that those things would have to wait. He didn’t remember falling asleep where he was laying against the wall by the desk. He wouldn’t remember hearing the sound of the heavy awkward door shifting when someone tried in vain to move it or even the sounds of muffled voices beyond it asking about him and what to do about him and his odd behavior. He wouldn’t hear the sound of one of them deciding that a man like him was clearly up to no good and would bring the cops down on their heads if they didn’t do something about him sooner rather than later. Perhaps if he had heard them he would have ready for them or figured out a way to save them from their own foolish ambition. A vampire, even one as human as Jacob, couldn’t stop himself from lashing out when startled from a deep and very dead sleep. Instead he slept through his body’s natural reaction to suddenly being threatened and defending itself. Or rather it would all seem like a dream to him until far too late.


	18. A Fated Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob confesses to Evie what he did unconsciously. Evie sends him after Roth, warning that as soon as the Templars are put down she will put him down herself. So Jacob goes to face Roth alone.

When Jacob awoke it was to the sound of screaming from the doorway of his quiet room. He jumped to his feet, startled and ready to fight off whatever had made the person scream. But when he looked to the girl he saw her wide, horrified eyes staring at him. He looked down at himself and found that he was covered in blood fresher than the blood he had spilled when he butchered Twopenny the night before. Only when he glanced down though did he see the horrifically mangled remains of the bodies of at least two, maybe three people he recognized that also squatted in this apartment. What in the- oh no. 

He stumbled back into the wooden desk, slick with blood, and felt his fingers catch on the wood. His claws. His claws that felt caked in something sticky and chunky. He could taste blood on his tongue and down his throat. Even his face felt sticky. What had happened? He hadn’t hunted these people down. He knew he hadn’t. Which meant they had come to him. 

Something shiny caught his eye. Amidst the stench of death and the copper he smelled a silver knife. Or at least a knife with some silver in it. There was also a gun that didn’t smell like it had fired anything. He stopped himself from reaching for the weapons. They clearly hadn’t done any damage or what damage was done was already healed. Either way he couldn’t stay here any longer. Whatever had happened to these people couldn’t be allowed to happen again. He wasn’t meant to be around people anymore. Hell, maybe George was right. Maybe, in time, he would become the mindless monster they all thought he was.

He already had his things with him. There was no reason to stay here. So he ran, knocking the girl back and way from the room while she cowered from him. He understood. As much as he hated seeing a child cowering from him he understood it. He didn’t bother with the streets. He leapt up to the nearest rooftops and started running, uncaring if the Hunters spotted him this time. He had to get away, get Evie the report and find someplace new to lay low. Maybe underground? The gutters and sewers of London may be utterly disgusting but he’d be guaranteed to be left alone there. Or if he was disturbed again, no one would care what became of those he’d leave in bloody piles. 

He arrived at the location Evie had used last time to leave the dossier on Twopenny just as she was leaving something new for him. Damn it. He didn’t want her to see him like this. But he had to give her the report, the sooner the better. He didn’t bother being stealthy this time. She only seemed somewhat startled to see him. If he was in a better mood he might have found it funny. Instead she took one look at his bloodied face and clothes and her expression hardened. He flinched at the sound her hidden blade sliding out of its sheath. Fine. If she wanted to take a stab at him, he would let her. He deserved it after this mess. 

“What have you done?” she demanded.

“I was asleep. They thought I was a threat and tried to attack me in my sleep. I had no control.”

“Who, Jacob? Who are ‘they’?”

“The unfortunates that shared the apartment I took refuge in after Henry came after me on the train!” He didn’t need to tell her the whole story. He was sure she would go and see for herself the state of the bodies he had left behind. But before she did so and decided he was more dangerous alive than dead, he offered her his report from his assassination of Twopenny. “The rest are all members of the government,” he said as she snatched the paper from his hand, “I’m not sure I can get to them at night. Not without leaving witnesses.” The nobles and government officials tended to keep their families close if not have a squad of guards with them at all times. Guards were easy to slip by with enough patience. But the wife of a politician? Her word was stronger than that of the wives of the lesser Templars he had killed in London until this point and she had influence with the wives of other politicians. Politicians who could be convinced to enact laws that would make it that much harder for the Brotherhood to remain in the city.

“Then I will take care of it,” she snapped, “You, on the other hand, have someone else to look into. He might be closer to your method of handling things than most.” She pulled the dossier out from where she had hidden it and handed it to him, staying just out of arm’s reach as she did so. It hurt. Jacob hadn’t realized how much it could hurt.

But he kept his distance as she clearly wanted and opened the file to read what information she had. Maxwell Roth. Head of the Blighters and a ruthless man to a dangerous degree. She was right of course. He was the ideal target. He could butcher Maxwell as viciously as he wanted and no one would suspect anything other than a gang rivalry gone horribly wrong. This one would not require the subtle touch of an Assassin. Jacob Frye the gangster would be man enough to handle this. Especially since, in the midst of Evie’s paperwork, there was a letter from the man inviting him to dinner. Well. This was… a unique opportunity to say the least.

“Jacob,” Evie called and he snapped out of his thoughts to meet her cold eyes. He had never wanted to stand straighter than he did when she had that look in her eye. It reminded him of father almost. Before the illness. “Listen to me very closely. Eliminate Maxwell Roth and only Maxwell Roth. We are almost through to Starrick and while you might not care one way or the other about making sure London does not collapse when he eliminate him, I do. The only reason why I’m letting you live now after what you’ve done is that I still need your help eliminating the last of the Order here in London. Once this is done I cannot promise you I’ll stay my blade any more than the Hunters. Am I understood?”

“Yes,” he almost whispered. “I understand.”

“Good. Now go. The less I know of how you handle this thug the better.”

So Jacob saluted and turned on his heel, disappearing into the night. As if his night could not get any worse. Now he was alone. Truly alone. His own twin had turned his back on him. His Brotherhood called him a monster. The Rooks only liked him if he paid them and quite frankly Evie was better with money than he was even if she didn’t directly get involved in much of the theft herself. At least she didn’t used to. Now she might have to if only to keep the gang happy enough to not abandon her if not outright turn on her. He might have felt worse about that if she hadn’t all but told him to disappear before she killed him herself and this time she meant it.

He found a rooftop that was well hidden from any peering eyes and sat comfortably against one of the buildings while he focused on the dinner invitation written out to him by Maxwell Roth himself. It was a curious thing and not something he imagined to be penned by a ruthless gangster. The words chosen had a dramatic flair but were harshly written. A passionate person. Driven by his emotions. My, didn’t that sound familiar.

But more than that there were scents that seem to cling to the page, smells that were at once alluring and yet almost familiar. It was almost something like a sweet tobacco but not quite. It was warm, a little spicy and homely. He sighed and felt a sob bubble up. Of course he would be at his lowest when he got this kind of letter. Well, better to get it over with. This Maxwell Roth had taught the leaders of the Blighters in the boroughs well though it wasn’t nearly enough to match him. Yet the teacher couldn’t impart even the best student with experience. Maybe he’d be more of a challenge than the Templars ever were.

The theater where the invitation said to meet the man at wasn’t far and with the invite he was fairly certain the Blighters along the way wouldn’t give him too much trouble. With his clothes so bloodied though he would draw more attention than necessary from the authorities. So he stuck to the rooftops, only dropping to the street when he was just outside the theater, making sure to let his coat flow behind him like a dark cloud. The Blighters jumped and he straightened to meet them, cane in hand though the blade remained screwed into it. He felt so badly he couldn’t bring himself to smile at this little amusement. “I am here by invitation,” he said as he stepped closer, letting the light fall onto him and thus his bloodied clothes, “I suggest you let me pass.” They wisely did so.

The inside of the theater smelled like the letter had. Something almost sweet, a little spicy and like a home. It was almost enough to distract him from the table set up in the middle of a stage with what looked like a small but filling feast laid out across it. Sitting at the table was a man he could only assume was Maxwell Roth. He looked older than Jacob had thought he would be, more grizzled and yet somehow still the gentleman the letter implied. Yet even from where he was, just beyond the man’s view, Jacob knew something was different with him. Something that didn’t quite sit right.

It wasn’t until Maxwell turned and their eyes met that he really understood what it was. The eyes he met were as red as his were. Maybe a little more red even. “You!” he said, at once wanting to engage his hidden blade and wanting to offer the other his hand. “You’re the other vampire of London!” He didn’t shout this second part, he didn’t need to. He knew even as quietly as he had said it the words would be heard. The smirk he saw bloom on the other’s face was proof enough of that. 

“It took you long enough, my dear. I thought you would never accept my invitation. Your masterful work at handling the Blighters was truly a thing of beauty. As a fellow artist, I must say, I didn’t expect to meet an equal in these parts much less one after my own heart.”

Well that was… “Thanks? I think?”

Maxwell waved his hand at a chair, getting up to fetch something nearby that even from here Jacob could smell was fresh blood though he couldn’t tell from where it was drained. He took the seat that was offered, even held the glass in place as the blood was poured into it before setting his hat aside to meet his fellow vampire properly. “The fact that you’re doing all of this to take down that arse of a man Starrick is all the better honestly.”

Well that was… not what he was expecting. “I thought you worked for Starrick. Hence your Blighters answer to Templars.”

Maxwell laughed as he took his own seat looking like he was both falling into it and sitting gracefully. “Not by choice really. Not for quite some time now. There’s only so many lines of work for people like us and well, training his thugs was about the best money I could have made.”

“And the money isn’t worth it anymore?”

“The human who plays with things he can’t hope to understand thinks he can tell me what to do and when do it. I believe he needs to be taken down a peg or five if not outright removed from the board all together.”

Alright. That was fair. Starrick was a dangerous man and technically their goals did align in this. But how they would go about it was a different path all together. Evie had always talked about wanting to make sure London was still in relatively one piece when this was through. A man like Maxwell, who could train such ruthlessness in people, might not care about the consequences of what he did to meet to his goals. 

But then, why should Jacob care anymore? Why would he care? The city was full of people who thought him a monster for one reason or another. Everyone he had thought he could rely on turned their back on him eventually. He did not mean to slaughter those people. And had he been awake no harm would have come to them. But he wasn’t human anymore. He would never be human again to be held to a human standard when his instincts, his very being, couldn’t conform to those rules anymore not matter how hard he tried… Maybe London did deserve a bit of turmoil. Something to keep the people occupied while he used the chaos to slip out of the city when this was done.

“Alright,” Jacob said and took a deep drink from his glass. My, this stuff was delicious! He’d have to ask Maxwell where he got it from, “Let’s say we work together to take Starrick out of the picture. Then what happens? We go our separate ways? Rule the London Underground together as lords of crime?”

Maxwell’s grin sent a shiver up Jacob’s spine and something pool in his belly that wasn’t quite a warmth he was used to. “Well now. That is a thought. But one step at a time shall we? First we need some supplies. Powerful as we are, Starrick does have numbers and influence in his favor. What say you we… liberate some from him?” 

Jacob couldn’t stop himself from grinning. Yes. If there was anything to put him in a better mood it was stealing something important from Starrick and his officers. Munitions and explosives were always better out of their hands anyway. He finished his glass and set it down heavily on the table, wiping his mouth on his already bloodied sleeve. A human would have wrinkled their nose in disgust. If anything Maxwell looked like he approved. Kind of. “Then let’s liberate ourselves some supplies.”

Maxwell’s excitement was contagious as he got to his feet all but clapping excitedly. “Excellent! I hope you have your good boots on. I would ordinarily suggest we go by carriage but as you and I are far from common types, we’ll turn this into a little race.” He rattled off an address of a private rail station that Jacob remembered at a distance while on his way to the theater. “First one there gets first crack at the bastards guarding it.”

A free running challenge? Even before he was a vampire only Evie could have hoped to keep up with him there. He laughed and set his sword cane on the table with what was left of the feast. He wouldn’t need it tonight.

The moment they stepped out of the view of the Blighters and the gaslights, Maxwell leapt up the nearest building into its rooftop and Jacob joined him a second later. Oh this was going to be fun! “You ready to lose?” Jacob said already trading his hat for the deep hood, “I’m not about to go easy on you just because you might be a bit rusty at this.” Was it his imagination or did the gangster shiver slightly when he said that? He couldn’t tell and at this point it hardly mattered. There was a race to run and explosives that needed liberating from Templar hands. 

“Careful, little bird. Wouldn’t want you to choke on your own words when you eat them.”

They lined up so they were side by side, each having good balance and a decent shot at getting and keeping ahead of the other. It was Jacob that counted them off and when he all but yelled go there was no stopping the pair of them as they took off. While he had been right in that he had years of free running across rooftops before he became a vampire to help him, Maxwell knew the city of London far better than Jacob could possibly know it in such a short amount of time. Their paths wove above and beneath one another, once in a while crossing though they were so close to each other it as impossible to tell who was winning. In fact, Jacob wasn’t entirely sure he cared if he won or lost this time. He was having fun and actually being challenged for once. It felt like… it felt a little like training with Evie. Before father got sick. Before everything changed.

They both reached the train station within a few steps of each other and without pausing Jacob blinked his sight into the blues, yellows and golds he had always hunted with. There were a few Templar specifically aligned Blighters about the place, a few civilians that could prove helpful, and so many explosives already packaged up so neatly for them on a small train. Well that would make stealing them easier. Which meant it was just a matter of getting rid of the Blighters, the couple of Templars about the place and maybe making sure the civilians were kept out of the way. He blinked again as he met up with Maxwell, letting the otherworldly vision fade away.

“I can see maybe ten targets we can eliminate and a few potentially helpful civilians in the mix. Some of the guards are Blighters. I presume you have no issue with their untimely demise this night?”

“Only if it’s boring. If I’m going lose ‘em might as well get something out of it.”

Well then. Nothing to worry about then. He crouched low and let his claws grow while he focused on what his instincts were telling him. Instincts that wanted to show off. And this time he didn’t have to worry about frightening off humans or even being flashy to make sure his men understood the consequences if they crossed him. The vampire with him was the only other vampire (that he knew of) in London. If anything putting on something of a show for him would be to show off just how powerful he was. And maybe there as something else in there. Something he still didn’t want to look into too closely.

So when two of the Blighters came within relatively easy reach, he didn’t let himself think through how to deal with him. He let his body move as it wanted, didn’t care about the splash of human blood staining his already bloody clothes as he landed between the two and used both his strength and momentum to shatter their skulls against the ground, leaving only bloody shards of bones where their heads had once been. They hadn’t even had time to cry out. It was a good start but he was nowhere near done.

The next man saw Jacob get to his feet and held his lantern up high as if to try and identify him. “Oi! You there! You don’t belong here! Go on! Get before I put a bullet in ya!” He might have kept going if he didn’t get close enough by then to see the deep red splatter of his companion’s blood on the stones and the shards of bones among them. Instead his words stopped completely and his free hand went to his pistol. Foolish Templar. As if a pistol was going to save him.


	19. A Fine Pair We Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob meets up with Roth and decides to help him with a mission. Perhaps it was because Roth was his Sire but something about working with another vampire just felt... right. More than just working for the Brotherhood.

If there was any doubt that Jacob was where he belonged, those doubts were promptly erased the moment Maxwell met up with him after he had secured the explosives and locked the surviving humans away where they couldn’t interfere. Evie would have stared at him with a look of disgust and horror for the split second she allowed to show on her face before fury would have taken over when she saw his bloodied clothes. But Maxwell, if anything, looked something like proud and hungry. Though the latter might have had something to do with the Templar’s heart he had literally ripped out of the human’s chest as a gift. “I’ll be honest, my dear, I underestimated you. What you did here was art of the finest quality. I’ve never seen this little train station look so beautifully painted with red.”

There wasn’t much actual attempt at artwork. Bodies lay strewn about the place, often in pools of their own blood. Some were gutted. Some he ripped the limbs off of. All of them had their eyes wide open, staring in horror at something only they could see now. He supposed if one removed the bodies from the picture maybe the blood alone would look nice. Jacob had never been one for the arts really. At least, he hadn’t been before. “I’m glad you appreciate it, Max, but art was not why we came.”

“No, of course not. You’re right.” His fellow vampire hopped into the locomotive where the engines were not yet cool. “I’ll get this someplace safe. The sun’s got a couple of hours or so. I presume you’ve got someplace you prefer to stay out of sunlight at?”

“I did.” Until the humans stupidly decided to try to sneak up on a sleeping vampire.

“Which means you don’t now?”

“That’s right.” 

“Then you’ll stay with me. Sleep by day and paint the town red at night with the blood of Starrick’s men!”

And that did sound a fair share better than finding another abandoned building to squat in that wasn’t filled with poor humans or let in too much light. “I don’t see why not. All the better to plan out our next plan of attack if we stick together.” So he joined Maxwell on the locomotive, staying in a corner to avoid getting in his way while he built up some steam to get the train moving. It didn’t take long to get it going and as it sped into the night toward wherever Maxwell had planned to keep such things Jacob took the opportunity to look out over the parts of the city he hadn’t had the chance to see up close yet. He had always been so busy with matters of the Brotherhood and while technically he was still doing Brotherhood business it felt different somehow. Almost like he chose to do this rather than he was ordered to.

“Contrary to popular belief, she can be a beautiful place, London,” Maxwell said after a long while, “while to some it seems stuffy and dirty and some parts just craw with disease, I see life as it is meant to lived. Even the poorest of the poor find something to take pride and joy in. Men like you and me? We’re just here to enjoy the show of it.” 

And wasn’t that the truth. No matter how hard they tried there was no real escaping that for them, life was just going to keep passing them by. He wouldn’t age. Not really. But Evie would. Greenie. Eventually their skin would start to wrinkle and their hair would grow grey while he would continue to look the same. As an Assassin he couldn’t leave his mark on history. He couldn’t make his name known, at least not for his work tied to them. Like all too many of the Brotherhood before him, he walked in the shadows to serve the light only now he had little choice but to take it a little more literally than before. Was that really all there really was for him anymore? Just an eternity of serving a Brotherhood who would see him as nothing but a tool until he died by the Templars’ hands or his own?

But then what of Maxwell? He couldn’t run a gang like this forever. Eventually he would get caught and be too closely watched to break out. They’d accidentally cut him with something that was touched by silver or lock him in a cell with sunlight that would burn through before they ever realized what was happening. That was assuming of course, the Hunters never caught up to him either, somehow. He couldn’t outrun them forever. Neither could Jacob if he was honest. Perhaps together they stood a better chance. Eternity with someone was better than eternity alone.

But that would all depend on if Maxwell proved himself to truly be an ally against Starrick and the Order when all of this was said and done. While Jacob didn’t much care for the Creed, he wasn’t exactly going to put everything he and Evie had worked for to this point at risk just because a target was someone like him. No. For now he’d stay with Maxwell Roth and keep careful watch. If the man proved himself a true ally, then he’d invite the man with them when they took on Starrick himself. After all, what better prize would there be for hunters of their caliber than the grandest prey of them all? The thought alone made Jacob smile which he didn’t notice until he noticed Maxwell staring.

“What?” he said with a laugh, “Is there still blood on my face or something?”

“Has anyone told you that you have a beautiful smile?”

“I- No. Never.”

“Then they don’t have eyes in their head.”

If he could still blush he might have. Instead he looked away, back into the city, watching the buildings fly by faster than he could run even if he tried. At this speed the air almost smelled clean. Or at least of only a hint of people and more of the coal burning to keep the steam going. Maybe when all this was done he could take a short trip out to the country side while he waited for tempers and whatever else their little coup here did to settle down properly. Perhaps Maxwell might even be inclined to join him.

It wasn’t too much longer until their train pulled up to the small warehouse that Maxwell was using though Jacob hadn’t been aware of it being along the tracks before. Only upon thinking back on their route did he realize that there must have been someone at the ready to change their tracks along the way. Huh. He really had to start paying more attention to his surroundings. One might never know when the damned Hunters would be waiting with one of their silver crossbows using the speeding train as a means to cover their stink or something.

In fact, it was only when the train was stopped that he realized the warehouse itself was empty and darker than any human could hope to see in. The flames that had been steadily eating the coal still burned dimly though they were quickly fading as their fuel was consumed and Maxwell left the grate of it open to let them cool further. It was by that fading firelight that Jacob saw Maxwell sweep close to him and pin him against the wall he had been leaning on. Their red eyes met and it felt like they were somehow talking without words. Before he could hope to decipher the meaning of the look though Maxwell had filled his sight and pressed his lips firmly against Jacob’s. It felt inevitable.


	20. Darkness and Screams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob goes on another mission with Roth and Roth shows Jacob how to make the stubborn ones sing.

The next evening when Jacob awoke, he felt sore but not in pain and more relaxed and alive than he had felt in quite some time yet he couldn’t pin point why. The memory of the humans he had torn apart the night before felt almost distant, as if they had happened to someone else or were just a conjuration of his imagination. Yet his clothes that had been so utterly ruined by their blood were still there and still as badly stained as they should be. While he was glad to feel better about such a thing he felt as if he should be worried about feeling as uncaring as he did about the incident in just one night. Something in the back of his mind whispered that they were only humans, that they died by their own ignorance, not any fault of his and had they been any smarter and left a man who clearly wanted to be alone, alone, they would not have met the fate they did. And he believed it.

Changing back into the bloodied clothes that he didn’t remember getting out of to sleep, he wandered out of the small dark room he had been sleeping in back into the theater proper where he absently wandered back toward the stage where he had met Maxwell last night. The man was in fact there now, staring at a rook in a cage with this look of fascination upon his face. Jacob tilted his head curiously as he stepped within the man’s view, unwilling to disturb the moment and yet utterly confused by it.

“He’s beautiful isn’t he?” Maxwell said though whether he was talking about the bird or Jacob the Assassin couldn’t tell. Then he seemed to change gears somewhere in his mind. “Speaking of beauties, I believe I have come up with the second perfect outing for us tonight?”

“Have you now?”

“We are going to be doing some borrowing. Three of Starrick’s henchmen are going to ‘disappear’.”

Now this was more like it. Stealing a few explosives? The Blighters could have done that if the men chosen were smart enough. Making men disappear on the sly? That took a little bit more skill and effort, especially if they were to make it look like the men walked away willing to avoid drawing too much attention. “You sly devil,” Jacob purred with a grin, already feeling his fingers itch. 

“You going to join me in the fun this time? As much as I like making works of art for you this outing of ours is going to need a master’s touch.”

Maxwell’s fingers felt oddly familiar as they traced the lapel of his bloodied jacket yet he couldn’t place why. “Ah, little bird. You always seem to know just what to say to brighten my night. But yes, this time I’ll join you in the glory. Some of these gits owe me personally for the trouble they’ve caused me and I intend to take my pound of flesh tonight. Literally.”

And he imagined that would be a sight to see. He couldn’t wait. “Then what are we standing around here for, Max? We’ve got Templars to hunt.”

This time as they left the theater, Maxwell grabbed one on his men by the door and gave him an address. “We’ll bring three people. I expect three carriages and as soon as one is loaded up you bring the person inside here and lock ‘em up good in the basement. You lose ‘em, you’ll be the one to take their place and believe me, my friend, that is not something you want tonight. Am I clear?”

“Yes sir, Mister Roth.” 

“Good. Now get going.”

The man took off and without waiting for the man to be out of sight the pair of them hopped up onto the roof of the nearest building and took off on a dead sprint. Jacob followed Maxwell closely, knowing the gangster would already know where they were going. It was unlikely that the Templars in question would live far apart and working together it would be a simple matter to get all three of them collected and back to the theater. They stopped on a rooftop near what looked like a series of apartments. Maxwell pointed out the three Templar’s homes from there. 

“My men should be in position within the next ten minutes. Once one of us gets the first man loaded up and gone, they move on to the next. We’ll even make this a bit of a race. Best two of three.”

Simple enough and if done correctly they could do this with minimal witnesses even. At least, few to no witnesses who would see anything wrong with a pair of gents walking down the street toward a carriage. Perhaps a block away from where the homes were the Blighters pulled up with their carriages. Good. Everything was in place. “Then let’s get to it,” Jacob replied and adjusted the hat on his head.

The first man Jacob “escorted” from his house was a simple matter. The right press of the hidden blade against his back and a forced conversation kept the fake smile on his face and his voice low and quiet. The man was in the first carriage and gone just as Maxwell rounded the corner with the second one. The third was a bit trickier as he was a big man and was more inclined to fight. This one Jacob didn’t think twice before letting his blade sink into the human’s flesh though not enough to kill him any time soon. The pain was enough to keep him quiet enough to get him into the carriage though his clothes were clearly blood stained when he was thrown inside. 

Maxwell clapped him on the shoulder for that one and then the pair of them walked casually together back toward the theater, Maxwell talking all the while about how he had never had a kidnapping run that smoothly before especially with such high profile targets. Fortunately the police either didn’t hear him or weren’t stupid enough to interfere with them given Jacob’s darkly stained clothes on their way. By the time they got there the three Templars had been secured and the Blighters, well, they wisely stayed outside of the building while the pair of them went inside. 

“Have you ever conducted a proper, bloody, interrogation Jacob? Carved the answers out of a man with your own hands?”

“Never really needed to. They were always stupid enough to leave papers lying around and after you made me into a vampire, well, their memories provide what information I would need from them anyway.”

Maxwell scoffed but the grin on his face said that he wasn’t truly upset by this. “Then tonight will be a real treat for you, my pretty bird. I’ve seen you make men into works of art. Let me teach you how to make them sing for you.”

Had Maxwell said those words maybe a year ago, Jacob would have walked away. He would have been disgusted with anyone that suggested he learn how to torture a man to get information from him. Not when there were easier, more human ways of getting it from other sources. But this wasn’t about information. Not really. This was about revenge. Revenge against the damned Templars for every inch of suffering they inflicted both on the people and everyone Jacob had ever known. Even if these three hadn’t done much, well, they’d provide a good enough message for those that remained now wouldn’t they. He smiled at the idea and set his top hat on the table when they passed by it. “Show me.”

Maxwell answering laugh might have been considered equal to some. To Jacob it was just endearing. Just like that maniacally sadistic grin on his face. Oh yes. Tonight was going to be fun. “Excellent. My tools are already downstairs and ready. You’re in for a real treat, my little bird.”

The three Templars they had captured were locked away in three separate rooms and the first Maxwell decided to lead them to was the man that really didn’t put up much of a fight in Jacob’s grasp. “This one won’t take much to break,” Maxwell was saying as he circled the man that had been tied down to a chair and had a bag over his head, “and so is a fine one to start with. All the better to hear the song first to know what the others will sound like when you’re done with ‘em. That and his songs may make them more inclined to sing too.”

“You think they’ll hear him from here? The walls look pretty thick.”

“Maybe. But it’s more the type of door we’ve got and at the moment we’re not using anything heavy and sound muffling now are we?”

Maxwell moved the cart he had brought into the room closer to their victim and Jacob could almost smell the man getting ready to wet himself. It was a tinge of fear he hadn’t smelled yet. It was not purely intimidation. There was something instinctual in it that went beyond that. A human reaction to a vampire as powerful as Maxwell perhaps. Or maybe just two of their kind in the same room. 

The hood came off. The man blinked for a long moment before staring at Jacob’s bloodied clothes and all too casual stance. “Who are you?” the man demanded though the shaking in his voice made him sound far less imitidating that he wanted to sound, “What do you want with me?”

“Really, it’s not him you should be worried about,” Maxwell said from behind the man, picking up a sharp blade that looked as well cared for as Jacob’s own hidden blade, “After all, he’s not the one you owe a debt to now is he?”

The man stilled. “Roth? No. You wouldn’t come after me. The Grandmaster would know it was you and the wrath you would call down upon yourself… surely you wouldn’t be so very stupid.”

The blade in Maxwell’s hand buried itself deep into the human’s arm, nowhere close to killing him but plenty deep enough to cause pain and, if turned right, tear across the flesh and muscle there in a way that would render that arm utterly useless. The man screamed his agony. It should have sounded painful. It sounded more like music than he was expecting. “Really, Templar,” Jacob couldn’t help but mock with a grin of his own, “You should know better than to call the man with the blade stupid. Especially when in your delicate situation.”

The man peered up after along moment through tear filled eyes, shaking where he sat. If he wasn’t careful his own salty sweat would fall into his wounds and make it sting. “Do your worst, Assassin,” the Templar said with a brave face, “and when you go to Hell make sure to take Roth the traitor with you.”

“Now, see, this is where I feel like you are thinking you are in an easier situation than you are.” While Roth twisted and pulled the blade from the human’s arm, Jacob swept closer, his claws growing to their full vicious length and his fangs lengthening in his mouth. When red eyes met the human’s dark ones he finally saw an understanding there that had been missing. “Hell will seem like a paradise compared to what Roth and I have in store for you. Mock us if you want. You’re just going to make it more painful for yourself in the end.” The man’s stubbornness wavered. It was enough to go by.


	21. Two Becomes One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After torturing their captives, Jacob and Maxwell retreat to Maxwell's bedroom to pay together for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: There is some mild dirty talk in this chapter and it is pretty short. I struggle with writing smut but this story needed some so there it is. Please don't be cruel about how crappy this part of the story is.

How they went from leaving the last of the Templars in a bloody heap in the basement to their darkened rooms, Jacob had no idea but he was starting to seriously doubt he minded. Not when Maxwell was kissing him like that, all but dragging him into the room and pulling at his clothes with a hunger that Jacob could never remember any of the women he had been with having. If his blood still flowed like it had in life the kisses would have left bruises and the bites would have been bloody. Maybe. Instead the bites left indentations, even a few holes in some places but none deep enough to cause blood flow or at least blood flow that couldn’t be stopped quickly. 

His clothes were lost in the room somewhere and he remembered hearing his gauntlet fall but not where. It hardly mattered when he had clothes to pull off the man too, clothes he had to be more careful with because they were fancier and not his. Somehow he managed to shed a few of the man’s layers before he was pushed away and all but thrown onto a bed that that bounced slightly when he landed on it. He was no lady. He didn’t shy away from the eyes that roamed over him with such hunger as they watched him at the bedside while they both shed the last of their clothes. But that didn’t mean he was entirely comfortable with what was about to happen either. He had never been with a man, hadn’t even considered it a possibility until recently. Yet here he was, about to take the plunge and indulge in something most of modern civilized society would consider sick and savage. As if anything he did wasn’t sick or savage to them anymore.

“My little bird is as beautiful beneath his clothes as when he’s in them,” Maxwell purred and as he climbed in over Jacob, “All that running around that you do has certainly paid off.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” he said in reply, settling easily beneath the older man, his fingers tracing old scars and burns though he couldn’t tell if they had been acquired before or after the change to vampirism, “I can read a lot of stories in these. Stories I’m going to want to hear after I’ve heard you beg my name.”

“Me? Beg? No, Jacob, I’m afraid you’ve got it backwards. You’re the one who’s going to be begging.”

That sounded like a challenge but it wasn’t one he was sure he could or even wanted to win. So instead of answering Maxwell he pulled the man lower for another kiss, this time holding him tightly in place with one had on the back of the man’s head and the other holding him across his lower back with a hand splayed wide across his ass. The lack of breasts creating a cushion between their chests felt odd as did the hardened length answering his own but it didn’t feel wrong per say. Just different.

It was Maxwell that started thrusting against him, forcing his way out of Jacob’s grip to nip along his jaw and ear and down his neck. The friction was not enough, nowhere near enough, but it was something that, coupled with the way sharp teeth nipped and marked his skin make his normally still, cool blood actually flow and warm a little. His clawed hand tightened in Maxwell’s hair and the other scratched absentmindedly at his bare ass. He might have even let out a quiet little moan, one that made the older man all but laugh at him.

“It’s alright little bird, sing for me tonight. My men know better than to speak up about such things if they have an objection to it and even if they didn’t know better, well, I could always use more men to fill those rooms downstairs.”

Just the reminder of the way the humans had screamed and cried and begged as he and Maxell tore them apart spurred him on as did Maxwell it seemed. It didn’t take long for Jacob to find and take the opportunity to flip them both over so he was laying on top, pinning Maxwell down with his lean and powerful body. “Does that mean I should leave the door open then?” Jacob suggested, nervous that he was even making the suggestion but at the same time feeling more confident and bold about his choices than ever. “Let your men get an eyeful of us? Maybe a few of the ladies will want to join us. I can’t say I’d mind overly much. A woman might look beautiful spread on your cock.”

Maxwell’s answering upward thrust might have upset his balance had he been anything other than a well-trained assassin. As it was he was quickly able to readjust without falling, his grin spreading wider. “Although maybe some of the prettier boys would like a turn first. I’ve heard of a few Blighters who would rather spent their time buggering each other rather than the whores you’ve got in your employ specifically to service them.”

“And are you offering to do the job, Jacob?” Maxwell asked, his hands finding Jacob’s hips and gripping tight like iron to hold them there, “To fuck my boys like a proper whore? Depends on the boys if I’d be willing to share my pretty bird with ‘em. Wouldn’t trust some of them as far as I can throw them and the rest, well. I know more about them than even they know sometimes and there are very few I would trust to keep you healthy and safe even as you are.”

“I’d rather fuck you first, if it’s all the same to you. Might as well enjoy my proper place in the master’s bed before I go slumming it with his brats and beauties.”

Then Maxwell flipped them around again, hands still holding Jacob’s hips though now he was on his knees with his long arms held behind him. He felt at once strong and vulnerable, especially when he felt something he wasn’t expecting to gently nudge at his nether hole. He felt like he should say something, protest in some way. This felt like it was a step too far and yet hadn’t they just tortured several people for fun? Gotten the information they wanted and just brought more pain until their feeble mortal bodies couldn’t handle it anymore?

The gentle prodding disappeared for a moment and there was the sound of something like a vial being opened. The smell of something sweet and rich filled the air. “This will ease our way, darling,” Maxwell said softly as a few drops of the liquid fell onto Jacob’s skin, “And while it may hurt at first I promise that after the pain comes pleasure the likes of which you’ve never experienced before.”

He could back out now, Jacob considered, this was his last chance. But… he was curious too. And aroused by the idea of being with a man even if this wasn’t what he had pictured it to be. “I trust you,” he said, tracing his soon to be lover’s lean body and relishing in the fact that beneath his hands he felt nothing but skin. His vampire’s eyes let him see in this darkness but with the utter lack of light in the room it was like seeing in a dim room. Shadows and beautiful lines. He felt the urge to trace them with his tongue.

But Maxwell, his fingers covered in the liquid he had produced, had the advantage of being on top so was able to indulge the whim first. His kiss was hungry and demanding and Jacob couldn’t help but grab onto the man to hold him closer. He was so distracted by the kiss he barely noticed the fingers circling his entrance and gently pressing in. He tensed unconsciously at the sensation but Maxwell used his other hand to run soothing fingers down his body. “You have to relax sweetheart. It will hurt less if you do.”

So Jacob tried to do as Maxwell said, made himself relax and grow limp. The other vampire trailed kisses down his neck in encouragement as he kept his finger moving slowly, carefully, stretching him. One finger slowly became two. Then three. Jacob could feel his arousal fading slightly but lips on his nipples and a mustache scratching as his chest kept him focused. Eventually he was deemed opened up enough and Maxwell sat back to reach for the vial again. Jacob watched the man as he slathered his hard length in the liquid, making it gleam and shine. “I’ll go slow for you this time, darling. Ruin you for anyone else who might want you. But next time I won’t be so gentle.”

He picked up Jacob’s legs, shifted them both so he was lined up with Jacob’s entrance and Jacob stayed still and made himself take deep breaths to stay relaxed as slowly the hard shaft of his lover penetrated his body. Maxwell had been right. It did hurt. It felt like his hole was being pushed beyond its limits to accommodate the flesh of another. Still he endured and waited, his hands flexing in the sheets beneath him. He was sure his claws tore at the material somewhat. And when Maxwell was fully seated in him in the pain stopped but the uncomfortable feeling held.

Maxwell kept whispering praises to him and petting his skin. Jacob barely heard him but instead focused on the sensations within his body. He relaxed more as he got used to it. His grip on the sheets eased and instead, unsure where else to put them, reached up to hold onto the board at the head of the bed. Maxwell purred his pleasure at the sight and started to move. Slowly at first, letting Jacob get used to the sensation then faster. 

It was only when Maxwell shifted and changed angles that the waves of pleasure came and Jacob couldn’t mask his surprise at them. “I told you this would be worth it, my pretty bird,” Maxwell said as he moved so he could better watch, “don’t you hold back your song. Let me hear how much you love my cock up your ass, my Jacob.” And it did feel good. So Jacob let out the little gasps and moans, letting his body move the way it wished to meet those pleasurable sensations. He reached to grab at his own cock but Maxwell knocked his hand away. “Not yet. That is mine. And you’ll only get yours once I’ve got mine.”

The thrusting became harder, faster. Jacob’s moans got louder. He barely realized he was saying anything until he focused for a second on his words and later would be embarrassed by them. But they worked. Maxwell kept fucking him hard and fast until at last the elder vampire’s climax came and with a shout and a bite to Jacob’s neck he spilled his cold seed deep inside Jacob’s body. After a moment. Jacob clawed at Maxwell’s back, desperate for his own release by then, and it was only after several long moments did Maxwell’s hand reach for Jacob’s cock and pump it just the way Jacob liked. He cried out his pleasure at the end and even felt himself white out a little in pleasure.

The seed that spilled from him was colder than he remembered it being but he was glad that the pleasure at least was as Maxwell promised. It had certainly felt more intense than anything he had felt with a woman before now but it was different enough he wouldn’t say the experience was the same. He expected Maxwell to pause just long enough let the heavy thudding of his dead heart slow before asking Jacob to leave. Instead to reached over after a long pause, grabbed a cloth that was sitting there and gently cleaned them both up before tossing it aside and lying next to Jacob. The warmth he expected of another body so close wasn’t there but it was comfortable none the less. He slept well that day.


	22. Bond Stronger than Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Roth is preparing the next mission, Jacob goes out for a run. A chance encounter with Evie and Henry, though, does not go as well as anticipated.

The bodies were dumped quietly while they slept, weighed down with stones in the Thames. Not that they’d stay there forever, Jacob knew, but hopefully long enough to get this mess with Starrick sorted out and finished. To draw attention with murder was to increase security around Starrick and draw the Hunters closer to them. Or so was his logic which he explained when Roth told him about how the bodies were disposed of when checking with his men the next day. There was a look of pride in Roth’s face at that and a touch of joy in their too. “I’ll need the night to organize our next step, my little bird,” Roth said softly, eyes and hands trancing skin as Jacob searched for his clothes about the freshly darkened room, “Just don’t do nothin’ foolish and get yourself killed tonight.”

“Did you need something while I’m out?” He didn’t imagine the gangster did. If he was hungry the man could easily hunt for himself or have one his men bring him something. But they had gorged the night before on those they had kidnapped and Jacob was still pleasantly full. Perhaps tonight he would scope out where he knew Starrick to be. Test the defenses a bit. See what more needed to be done to loosen them up enough to let him to slip passed. He had no idea what Evie had gotten up to while he was gone but he was sure it wasn’t anything he could find out easily without talking to her… and he doubted she would even let him know. 

So he donned his long black coat, his gauntlet and made sure to grab a cane sword he had seen lying about the place before he used the window of the bedroom they were in to climb through and up onto the roof. The Alhambra was not directly connected to any buildings as it was a theater but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make the leap. Not with the blood in his stomach and the night as bright as it was to his eyes. 

He made the jump right above Roth’s mens’ heads and made a run for it into the night, just enjoying the cool night air on his skin. He felt exhilarated. Happy. Full of energy. It was as if he was a teenager again without much care or worry. His unnatural instincts enjoyed the night air, tinged with the sharp smell of an oncoming storm. This was all that he had wanted when he had become an assassin. It hadn’t been the brawling or killing or even the cause that he had enjoyed. It was sense of freedom when he ran where no one else ran, feeling like he was flying without wings. That it took the very loss of his humanity to feel this way hadn’t escaped him but it was worth it. 

A cry in the night made him pause and stay low, listening carefully as only someone like him might. It repeated itself. A woman’s cry. He heard fear. Pain. He smelled blood in that direction. So he exchanged his hat for his deep hood and took off toward it. He knew it couldn’t be Evie. Like him she had been conditioned not to cry out when in pain and was pretty good at it. What she had gone through to be conditioned like that… well. Jacob didn’t like to remember that. It would just make his blood heat up and with his new abilities he might just be willing to hunt down the men that taught a pair of children how to hold their tongues through all kinds of pain and test their limits. Clearly he had no qualms about inflicting such pain now. Thanks to Roth he had even learned a few new techniques and had plenty of tools should he need them.

But that was not the point now. He came across about what he expected from the cry. A woman was running through the back alleys of the district, holding onto her skirts as she ran from a man chasing after her with… was that a broken bottle? From here the stink of cheap wine filled the air. A drunkard then. A piece of scum who was beating a woman because… she refused him? It didn’t matter why. He was coming after her, intent on beating her with a glass bottle. He wouldn’t let the bastard. Jacob wasn’t about to let some poor woman suffer because the man attacking her was not a Templar. He was more than just an Assassin now. While Starrick was his main focus there was more to this whole mess than just taking out those involved in it. If the people were going to enjoy the freedom he was going to give them he had to make sure this kind of crap was no longer tolerated. Which would mean setting a few examples. Starting with this piece of shit. 

He followed the pair closely as the woman ran, clearly injured and tired but still literally running for her life. The man following her wasn’t running to keep up. He had a naturally bigger stride and was clearly already drunk. The stink of it rolled off of him in waves. Jacob was glad right now he couldn’t drink anymore… well at least not like that. If the man wasn’t about to die he was going to have a wicked hangover in the morning and it would be no less than he deserved. Eventually the woman ran around a corner, and, upon finding herself cornered, leapt into a small shed nearby. This was his chance.

He leapt down into the dead end the woman had found herself in just as the man was would to turn the corner. He had no light in his hand but the moon above their heads was bright enough, apparently that he could see that the person standing in front of him was not the woman he had been chasing. “Who the fuck are you?” the man demanded with a slurr, his body swaying slightly even as he stood still, “Where did that bitch go?”

Jacob didn’t answer the man. Just watched him from beneath his hood, both hands on the cane, his expression solemn. This was far from a laughing matter. The woman was cowering now, trying to hold her breath so the man couldn’t find her. No one deserved to live like that as far as he was concerned. Especially not in London. Not under his watch. 

The man grew frustrated as he knew the man would and when the inevitable attack came he was more than ready for it. He lifted the cane and knocked the bottle out of the man’s hand, sending it crashing elsewhere, and without putting much strength behind it, punched the man hard enough in the chest he heard something break. The vampire within grinned at the sound. Easy prey was best. But he wasn’t hungry and this had nothing to do with feeding a necessary hunger. The man cried out and stumbled back, holding onto his cracked ribs. That was going to be the least of his worries tonight.

After a moment of gathering himself though he got to his feet and put up his hands like he was going to win this with a fist fight. It might have been amusing, like any other braw in a pub, if his hands weren’t already bloodied with the woman’s blood. “Come on then!” the man challenged, swaying a bit, “If you want a fight let’s have us a fight then. Then I’ll find the bint and make sure she understands that when I say I want something, I get it.”

Jacob set his cane aside then. He wouldn’t need it for this. And thought about setting the gauntlet aside too. But the gauntlet wasn’t something he could afford to lose and with the man this drunk it wasn’t like it was going to be a fair fight anyway even if he had been human. So he raised his hands but didn’t fold them into fists. An invitation for the man to come at him. And he did. As best he could.

This time Jacob didn’t hold back. It was like snapping a twig to break his arms and wrists just by catching and twisting a punch away. An elbow to his sternum broke the bone there, pressing it into the vital organs beneath and a punch to the other side of the man’s rips left him gasping and struggling for air as bones pressed into lungs. He fell back but Jacob pursued him. Picked him up from where he lay gasping and let him dangle from his hand while the man fought to breathe against his grip to. “You should learn your place,” he said coldly, letting his fangs fall just far enough for the man to see them, “I’m sure the Devil will make sure to teach you.” He snapped the man’s neck then with a loud crack in the night and cast him aside into the trash left out nearby. He heard the woman, still hiding in the shed, muffle her cries as tears fell down her face. He would have talked to her, addressed her, but decided against it. She had no doubt had enough of violent men telling her what to do tonight. She was free now to make up her own mind. Probably. 

So Jacob picked up his cane from where he had left it, scaled up the building again and returned to the roof tops where he had been enjoying his evening run earlier. The fight, although it could barely be called that, had certainly perked up his senses a bit. 

The storm that was promised earlier in the night was rapidly approaching. Soon it cover the moon and hide him even more from human eyes. Perhaps he would wait until the rain started falling before he hunted his next criminal in the night. At least it would be something productive to do.

He ran to a more centralized rooftop in the borough to wait for the storm when the smell of silver caught his nose and without thinking he dropped into a crouch lest the bearer of it notice him. Not that silver in general was especially rare but this silver smelled stronger and closer than he would have liked. More like a weapon than a nice or fancy pocket watch. So he waited, remembering all too clearly what a weapon of silver could do to him. He hoped the stench of it would walk away. But it got closer. 

So he watched the rooftops around him more closely. The Hunters had shown they were more than capable of getting to the roofs when they needed to and as ready as he was for a fight he wasn’t so sure he could take another one of them on alone.

A slight movement caught his eye and he turned sharply just in time to catch the sight of Evie landing on the far side of the same rooftop he was on. Another movement and Henry was standing beside her. Fine. Henry’s blades were what had drawn his attention and although he still wore the ridiculous white of the old Brotherhood Jacob wasn’t about to argue his skill. It was obvious they had been tracking him. Which meant they knew he was there now. There was no point in hiding. So he stood, kept his cane in his hand, ready to face them. Or at least he thought he was. He wasn’t so sure he could take them both down as easily as he could that thug earlier. 

“So,” he said, stepping close to them to avoid giving any Hunters on the ground a clear shot of his back, “You’ve tracked me down. Fantastic. I assume you have some words for me about something?”

Evie stood tall and straight, her hood down but he stance saying everything he needed to know. She was ready for a fight. “I’m here to make sure you’re behaving the way you should be, Jacob.” 

He scoffed. “You mean hiding quietly at night? Waiting for your word on who I can sink my teeth into?”

“I know you’ve been spending your days with Maxwell Roth. I know you’ve been hitting Templar targets with him. Drawn a lot of Templar attention doing it.”

“Better us than you. I can take a bullet or two if I have to.”

“Not the point Jacob. We’re Assassins. We’re meant to be discreet.”

“As if the Templars have no idea we’re here already. I’ve taken out plenty of targets under your instructions. They know we’re here. With Roth, at least, I get to rattle their cage a little harder… and keep my belly full.” Well, their bellies full. The three humans provided more than enough blood for the two of them to share. Not that Evie would have come anywhere close to approving of his methods. She barely tolerated the fact he literally had to kill to eat now. At least he didn’t have to pretend or hide that away from Maxwell. They were alike in that regard.

“And while I appreciate your drawing their army away from me your work is making them frantic. You’re driving them harder toward the Shroud and therefore making my job harder.”

“So you’re here to threaten me to stop?”

“No, Jacob. I’m here for some answers. Answers I have a feeling I already know the answer to.”

“Answers to what.”

“What happened to the three Templar commanders? The ones you and Roth took?”

What answer did she expect from him? “Dead. All three. Got some information out of them while we were at it. Not a whole lot more than I’m sure you already know but enough to make it worth the effort it took to extract it.”  
She blinked at him. Surprise and horror on her face. “You- you didn’t…”

He wrinkled his nose at her. Ugh. This was why he didn’t bother trying to come back to the train. This was why he never wrote to tell her about what they were doing. She promised his death should she see him again for wiping out those people in that abandoned building even though their deaths were not his fault and now she was surprised he had embraced that side of himself when left to his own devices? Better he turn the monster on those that deserved it rather than the innocent, he had thought, but no. She couldn’t even handle that. 

“So what if I did? I got the information I needed. They deserved all they got and more. The fact that you don’t have the stomach to do what needs to be done is a fault of yours. Not mine.”

“And how did you get this information?” Henry demanded from where he stood, his odd looking foreign blade ready to throw if the way he was holding onto it was any indication of his intent, “What methods did you use? And what information did you get?”  
Jacob didn’t glance at the man for more than a moment or two. They were stalling. But what for? He would try to look around but that would give them the opening they were looking for. So he reached out with his other senses. He heard shuffling but that was from the ground below them, London folk going about their business. He smelled more silver but it was thin like pocket watches and jewelry. He couldn’t smell any Hunters nearby. No threat but these two. And yet they were stalling. Why?

He let his fangs extend slightly and he was sure they could see the deep red of his eyes from the shadows his hood cast upon his face. The storm rumbled in the distance. The wind picked up. “I learned how to make a human sing for me,” he said, “with all kinds of shiny tools. They told me of shipments that were vulnerable. Of weak points in certain strongholds. Anything I asked they gave me. You can’t tell me the Brotherhood doesn’t do the same behind closed doors.”  
Evie looked ready to protest. Henry touched her arm. He knew the truth at least. And just like Jacob he wasn’t taking his eyes off his target. Jacob’s hand tightened on his cane. He hated this kind of thing. 

“So what now?” he demanded. “Are you here to put me down like a rabid dog? Because I don’t have all night and I’d rather get this over with sooner rather than later.” 

“One last question, then,” Evie said as Henry moved slightly, no doubt also ready to get this cover with, “Jacob. I expect you to answer me honestly. Did you enjoy torturing those people?”

He knew what she was getting at. The man she knew liked to fight but hated bringing pain. A quick, clean death was what they had always strived for. But now he enjoyed the killing. Enjoyed making it a game. Like he had with that human who chased that woman. Like he had with those Templars. And she was right. Something in him had changed. Something so fundamental the man she knew was not who he was anymore. 

“Yes,” he answered just loudly enough, shifting his stance a little to prepare for the oncoming blades, “I did. And I will do it again if that’s what it takes.”

The silver blade shone at it flew at him. He knocked it away with ease and was braced against the man that followed soon after. The rain started to fall as he took the weight and threw the human away. He was just fast enough to avoid the hidden blade that scratched at his coat. Evie charged him then with her own cane. He had sparred with her since they were children. She had always been able to beat him before. But now he was faster. Stronger. And with the rooftop getting slick with rain he had the better balance.

Still her blows took some effort to block. She was still faster than the average person. Smarter. And when she landed a hit against him, heavy with the head of the cane, he was sure it would have bruised him if he was human. But he wasn’t. Not anymore. He grunted out of habit more than any real pain. Another blade out of the corner of his eye came down. That one he caught too. Right. He almost forgot about Henry. Almost.

The rain fell harder. Lightning flashed across the sky. He separated the sword and the cane sheath, catching both weapons but barely even with his enhanced senses. Evie’s sword caught him through the jacket but it was steel rather than silver so while it cut skin it didn’t stink and didn’t burn like it could have. He knocked her back, hard, for that. Almost hard enough to knock her off the roof. That was far enough that he could focus instead on Henry and his damned silver. But Henry wasn’t as fast as Evie was though he was stronger. His blows left more of a rattle but it was easy to cut that pretty white robe of his, staining it with red streaks. His sword didn’t cut too deep though. They may be trying to kill him but they were still Assassins… the only three in London. Even Henry would be needed when they faced Starrick at long last he was pretty sure. 

He kept Henry on the defensive, cutting after him time and again until he got him to the edge of the roof, at a place where he’d have no choice but to leap down to safety. “I suggest you get going,” he said over the rain, “Before I make our job harder by leaving us one less Assassin to work with.”

He didn’t hear Evie’s footsteps until it was too late. Until the sound of the gun firing went off. Until he felt the punch of the bullet in his back and the stink of silver with it. He stumbled, knocking Henry backward off the building, then turned to face Evie who was watching him with determined eyes, her smoking gun in her hand. He felt his blood burn. Had to fight to hold back a scream. It wasn’t in the bullet itself. He could feel that where it was lingering in his muscle. It was the poison in the gunpowder. “Why?!” he hissed, “I am doing the work of the Brotherhood! I am killing Templars! I am getting us closer to Starrick while you hunt your damned artifact!” She might have said something but he didn’t hear it. The burning was getting worse. He could barely see through the pain. Then even that faded.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking back on this moment later, Evie was sure that this would mark the moment when Jacob Frye died. He died the moment those fangs dropped, those red eyes became slits and those claws tore Henry apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE: This AU will now separate from the game story telling. Characters will die in non canonical ways and the story telling (I think) will start taking a much darker turn. Reader beware of:  
> * violent death descriptions  
> * graphic gore  
> * psychological manipulation / emotional abuse  
> * dissociation
> 
> Each chapter will have a note with trigger warnings from here on out listed at the top. Make sure to read them before beginning each chapter. If you are sensitive to such matters.

Evie had thought that the shot alone, laced with silver would be enough. That shooting him in the heart from the back to put an end to the monster that still wore her brother’s face. He said he was still helping. That he was killing Templars and helping the Brotherhood but no. She would not accept it. They were better than the torture and sadism he subscribed to now. She watched as he stumbled, curled onto himself, fell to his knees clutching at where the exit wound should be in his chest. The rain pelted them all now and by the time Henry managed to make it back to the roof she was fairly sure that Jacob was properly dead, sitting up where he had sat. The sun would burn away what was left. Right? All of her research said so.

But they had to be sure. Henry had said so. They needed to take his head from his body and let them burn separately in the sun. It was the only way to ensure the vampire would not return from something like this. So she waited, gun at the ready, for Henry to climb back up to the rooftop. The fall from the edge, even ill prepared though he was, wouldn’t have killed him. Injured something maybe but not killed him.

She saw the movement of his white robes from the corner of her eye behind where the figure of Jacob was kneeling. It didn’t look like it was breathing or bleeding but it wasn’t as if vampires needed to breath or bleed to begin with. “Is it done?” she asked him hesitantly, moving a step or two closer to be heard in the storm. The figure didn’t move. “Is he actually dead this time?”

Henry moved closer, slowly, cautiously, eventually pulling the deep hood back from Jacob’s too still face and grabbing roughly at his hair. Evie hated the dark lines that were painted in her brother’s veins, the paleness of his skin, and the blueish tinge to his lips. A reminder of just how inhuman he was. Of how she had let the monster within him consume him when she could have just put him out of his misery at the very beginning. At least then his ashes could have scattered in the same town where their parents were laid to rest.

It wasn’t until Henry rested the silver of his blade gently across the front of Jacob’s neck that something happened, something Evie could barely follow. The hand that had been at Jacob’s side moved so fast she barely saw it move until the arm attached to the hand that had been holding the silver blade was snapped sharply in an inhuman direction as if it was little better than a twig. Henry’s scream of agony was almost enough to make her look away but if she had she would have missed the way red eyes opened, glowing and seemingly throbbing in the dark of the night with pupils like slits and an inhuman coldness in them she had never seen before.

The silver blade fell as Henry stumbled back and Jacob rose to his feet in a flash. Faster than she had ever seen him move. Faster than she would have thought possible. Long claws stretched from the tips of his fingers and his fangs lengthened enough that he had to leave his mouth open slightly to avoid cutting himself on them. She kept her gun raised but the creature didn’t watch it. It just shared at her for a second before turning on Henry. Shit. Shit shit shit!

There was no time to reload the gun. Not when Henry was trying to back away, his broken arm hanging by his side and his hidden blade extended on his left. Not with the speed this thing moved when it wanted to. So Evie drew her own blade, coated delicately in a layer of silver before this, even as Henry tried to lunge at it, to keep it distracted from her. The vampire moved out of the way too quickly, knocked Henry down with ease and snapped its foot into his back, snapping his spine. More cries of pain, barely muffled by the rain, and quickly silenced when the vampire knelt and tore off the man’s head with far too little effort. 

Evie’s stomach rebelled at the sight of it, her lover’s face distorted with pieces of flesh hung and blood poured from the veins and arteries so suddenly severed. The creature drank from the spilling blood deeply, staining its face and clothes with the rich red that spilled and unless Evie was mistaken some of the black that had lined its face faded away with its feasting. When the head was empty of blood (which didn’t take long), the vampire cast it aside and knelt to drain the rest of the body of what remained of it. Evie couldn’t take those red eyes watching her now. Couldn’t stand the sight of what once was her brother devouring another living human. She turned and ran. She knew she didn’t stand a chance. If she wanted to survive this she had to make a run for it.

She had maybe a fifteen minute head start on the beast before she noticed its movement in the distance gaining on her quickly as she tried to make a run for it back to the train. She hoped sticking to the roof tops would draw the attention of the Hunters that still lingered in the area but there were so few people out in the streets she couldn’t tell. Still she ran until her shoes slipped on a slippery spot of an angled roof and she fell from it onto the ground below in a heap, breaking at least one rib on impact though more likely three. She cried out from the pain of it even through the adrenaline and tried to get to her feet but found she couldn’t. Not fast enough. Nowhere near fast enough. By the time she regained her breath enough to try the beast had caught up to her, the rain having washed away most of the blood from its face though it still stained the white shirt it wore. The black lines in its face had retreated down its neck. Shit. 

“You’ve come to end it then?” she demanded harshly, moving so she could at least lean against a brick wall and face her death like an Assassin, “To put an end to the last tie you have to your humanity? Then do it, Jacob. End it all and be hunted to the end of your days like the animal you are.”

The creature tilted its head for a moment but then its gaze drew away to something else. There were shouts in the distance. Whistles of the police. No doubt someone had stumbled across Henry’s head at the very least. But they were not in the direction the vampire was looking at. It was as if it was tracking something else until whatever it was ended up in the nearby alley and then it turned to face it. If her gun still worked or she could have gotten up she would have taken advantage of his distraction. Instead she could only sit where she was and watch as a figure stepped out of the darkness… and the vampire knelt for it.

“My my, Miss Frye,” the figure said as it got closer. The lamplight that flickered uncertainly nearby struggled to shine on the man’s face from beneath his umbrella. “I would not have thought you so stupid. But apparently one cannot expect the Assassins to properly train their people on how to handle their pets.”

That sneer. The obnoxious moustache on his face. Those cold blue eyes that looked like ice even with the heat of the flame flickering at them. She fought the urge to spit at him. “Grandmaster Crawford Starrick. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

“No, we have not. Not you and I. I’ve met your brother before and I must say he has grown into quite the vicious war dog wouldn’t you say?”

“If you mean my brother has been turned into a savage animal that needs to be put down, then yes I can see that.”

Starrick snapped his fingers. The vampire that looked like her brother got to its feet, standing off to his left and a couple of steps back. Its lips were pulled back into a snarl and the slits of its red eyes were almost non-existent in the flickering light of the fire. “Vampires are only as savage as the people that handle them. Given you’ve managed to push the poor thing into his most base instincts I’m surprised you’re still breathing. You’ve left him a wild animal that only I can ease the suffering of.”

She snorted. “What are you ranting about now?”

He moved closer, even knelt though his knee didn’t touch the wet, filthy stone the street. The umbrella kept her dry now though she wished it wouldn’t. She didn’t like being this close to any Templar much less this one. He sniffed a bit as he settled into place and when he met her eyes again she saw they glowed a bright blue… tinged with red. “My Children will always answer my call, little Assassin, even when they are lost in their instincts like your brother is. So I will give you this one chance. Just the one. Leave London. Now. You and your kind will never darken these streets with your presence and your blades again. If I catch any of you in London again a nightmare hoard the likes of which you have never dreamed of will descend upon you and your Brotherhood and there will be not a scrap of any of you left to call to Europe for help. Am I clear?”

Starrick got to his feet with the same unnatural grace as Jacob had and Evie hated watching the pair of them turn to disappear into the night. The rain stopped completely by the time they were out of sight but she couldn’t honestly say it was a relief. Her ribs still hurt. She was still out of breath. And her brother was gone. Truly gone this time. And it was her fault. If she had given him more to do maybe? Kept him fed better with more targets… actually listened to what he told her he needed maybe he would never have gone to Roth and Roth would never have…

She couldn’t stop the hot tears that fell down her cheeks. No. She couldn’t afford to think of that. She had information now she didn’t have before. Vital information the Brotherhood needed to know. The Templar Grandmaster was a vampire. Had purposely changed one of their number in the hopes that the turned member would wipe them out. Now that Assassin would serve as Starrick’s weapon against them. Ugh. George was right. They were all right. And now the Brotherhood might pay the price.

But first thing was first. Getting the fuck out of London seemed the highest priority. She just had to get on the train and direct Agnes to take the track out of town. Her contacts here would have to go into hiding. Everything she had worked toward would be undone and the chances of the Order finding the artifact before she was able to heal and rally the Brotherhood… she didn’t want to think about it. She had to move fast. Or rather as fast as possible.

After taking a few more minutes to gather herself, Evie forced herself to her feet. Pain shot through her side. She gasped and almost collapsed again but held herself as upright as possible. There was the sound of a carriage pulling up and a couple of Rooks appeared from around the corner. One of them was a woman Evie vaguely recognized from the train and the other a man she could have sworn was the woman’s husband or something. “Miss Frye?” the woman said, “Are you… oh my. Yeah that tosser was right. Come on Michael. We’ve got to get her back quick.”

Evie barely had time to try to protest before the big man picked her up effortlessly and the woman was walking ahead of them back to the carriage that was waiting in the Rook’s colors. She wanted to ask who exactly had told them where she was or even that she was hurt but she was having an increasingly hard time breathing and decided that that warranted her attention more than asking questions. She closed her eyes and focused on that as she was laid across the woman’s lap and the man got up to the drive the carriage to where they needed to go. “It’s alright, Miss Frye. You’ll be alright. We’re going to take you to that kindly nurse that took care of Miss Clara. She’ll help you.”

“Jacob…”

“He’s been missing for days. Some of the boys could swear they see him at night but they’ve been able to track him back to anywhere. I imagine you had a falling out?”

“S-something like that.”

“A shame that. He was fun if a little bit too excitable about drawin’ blood.”

The woman kept talking until they reached the hospital and by then the combination of the physical and emotional strain of the day had taken its toll. Evie was asleep almost the moment she laid her head down on the pillow on the gurney. That was a relief.

***

Crawford Starrick led the animal he had recovered back to the manor before he really got a good look at it. To be honest he had completely forgotten the Assassin he had changed months ago. The sleeper agent that would either kill itself or wipe out a chunk of the Brotherhood with it. Apparently it did neither. Somehow it became a weapon for the Assassins although it had been only temporary. At least long enough to wipe out some of the valuable connections and allies he had built here. New ones were going to be difficult to cultivate for a while now. He was tempted to make sure the weapon understood damn well where its loyalties lied now.

But seeing it in the light of his home, away from the humans and the stench they brought with them in this city he saw in it what he saw that same night in that barely there town as the Assassin had tried to make a run for his life with bullets in his shoulder. Jacob was a handsome creature, deadly to a fault if guided in the right direction and Maxwell Roth certainly had. He had several men in pieces floating in the damned Thames as proof of that. If he could be refined more carefully that talent for extracting information could prove useful in the future. 

Still that rebellious streak had to be crushed and silver poisoning to be cured. Fortunately with Maxwell Roth’s betrayal two birds could be killed with one particularly messy stone. Starrick pulled a nearby chord and one of his personal assistants quietly entered the room. “Find Maxwell Roth and bring him to me. Tell him we need to have a little chat about a certain bird that I had to retrieve.” The man bowed and scurried out of the room. Smart man.

In the meantime there was still this small matter to attend to… and he didn’t particularly feel like cleaning blood out of this room with the inevitable mess that would follow. So with a snap of his fingers he motioned for the creature to follow him down the stairs of his home into the cellars he had specifically built for this kind of… messy disposal when he needed it. This Assassin wasn’t his first weapon but he was, so far, the most effective. Now if only he would remain that way once the poisoning had faded and he regained at least some semblance of a mind again. The fact he had had tried to hold onto his principles for so long proved he was strong willed at least. Bending that would not be easy but Starrick had his ways. 

The room itself was a small cell, fitted with a steel door lined in silver that was just enough to burn if bare hands touched it but a pair of gloves like those he wore would be enough protection provided he didn’t leave his hand to linger on it. The creature was hesitant at first but with a stern word and enough malice in his voice it got it going. He could hear it pacing as he closed the door behind it and bolted the door in place. This would serve as both its holding cell and the place where he would rehabilitate the mind of the man he had turned when the time came. Lucy could handle searching for that artifact while he did this. The other Assassin, the twin, would stay away if she was smart. If not… well. Killing his twin would be an excellent test of loyalty for his newest blade wouldn’t it?

It took a little more than an hour for his men to bring back Maxwell and judging by their state when they brought him in the vampire had certainly put up something of a fight. He had no doubt that the three that were escorting the man to him, blades against the man’s fragile skin at his neck and wrists, had seen more than a few of their friends killed. No matter. They would see justice done soon. As would he. 

“Maxwell,” he said calmly, motioning for the men to pause just above where the room was on the floor below. He had a trap door there. One he was fairly certain Maxwell was unaware of beneath the carpeting. “So good of you to come. I was afraid I was going to have to wait until sunrise and have nothing but ashes to bring you.”

“Where is he? What did you do to him, bastard?”

“Patience, Maxwell. You’ll see him soon. After all, you’re the one who had him hunt down my men. Those connections won’t be easy to replace.”

“I had to keep him on my side. Made it look like we were working together.”

“You betrayed me, Roth. You know the price of that.” 

Starrick hit the button he needed hidden amongst the carpets by his feet. Roth fell too quickly to catch himself and landed with a heavy thump beneath. He cursed then sounded surprised when he saw who was in the room with him. Crawford didn’t need to look inside. He knew his orders would be carried out. “Feed,” he commanded, “Drain him dry. Leave nothing left. You need your strength.”

There was fighting then. Scrambling underneath. Hissing. Shouts. Screams. The men who had escorted Maxwell Roth in watched in morbid fascination as they tore each other apart. Some blood splattered high enough to splash on the carpets by the door. At least one of the men had to step away to go be ill elsewhere. The whole thing barely lasted a half an hour and Crawford waited until after the men left to see for himself what had been left behind.

The mangled corpse that once was Maxwell Roth could barely be deciphered as a human being. There was little blood on the walls but the man’s internal organs painted the walls red regardless from where they were flung across the room. Broken bones lay contorted and pieces of hands, feet and even Roth’s head were scattered about the cell. In the one clean corner of the room, curled onto himself and sleeping off his meal was the Assassin, no doubt covered in blood and bits of his former lover. A fitting way to awaken in the morning… and an easy way to break the human spirit that still lingered inside.


End file.
